


Counting What Ifs

by BooknerdMiss



Series: Criminal Minds/Avengers Crossovers [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: All sorts of bromance, Arc reactor worship (light), Blow Job, Bromance, Case Fic, Come Swallowing, Crossover, Hand Job, M/M, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Not Beta Read, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Not Iron Man 3 Compliant, Not Thor: The Dark World Compliant, Post Avengers, Sexy Times, Snark, Unsafe Sex, cheesy as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1707620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooknerdMiss/pseuds/BooknerdMiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An UNSUB is killing rich business men at exclusive fundraising events in New York City. The next one on the social calendar is an event for the Maria Stark Foundation. The BAU team is worried that Tony Stark may be the next victim.</p><p>Based off of this prompt (but for some reason some plot snuck in):</p><p>Tony Stark/Reid. I don't know how this would happen, maybe Tony meets the genius FBI profiler with the three PhDs and wants to recruit him for his company. IDK, anyway they would have sex would be fine with me</p><p>NOTE: Rating has been upped for chapter four content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So, Brain. We need to have a chat. All I wanted to do was write a short little Tony/Spencer smut piece. Instead, you gave me plot and over THIRTY PAGES of set up that's still not done yet! Why, brain?! WHY?!
> 
> This was supposed to be a one shot, but since it doesn't seem to be ending any time soon, I am putting a first chapter up to see if there is any interest. Even if there isn't, I like it, so I will finish and post it, but maybe your interest will light more of a fire under my butt to hurry the fuck up and get it done. Because I also want to see where this is going to go, Brain.
> 
> The rating for this story WILL go up. Because I will get Tony and Spencer to smex. And Derek and Steve, which just came out of left fucking field, but I'm gonna go with it.
> 
> The title for this work comes from my favorite song, Counting What Ifs by Boy Child.

**Counting What Ifs**

_Start Date: January 1, 2014_

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I don’t kid.”

“Now, that’s not exactly true,” Tony Stark said, leaning back deeper into his seat with his feet on the table. “I seem to remember this time where you said that you had your eye on me. That seemed like kidding to me.”

Nick Fury reigned in the impulse to roll his eye with every ounce of willpower that he had. He was a hardened spy and had gone toe to toe with Stark before. He wasn’t about to let the man get under his skin now. 

“Be that as it may,” Phil Coulson stepped in, his face as impassive as ever. “Right now we’re very serious.”

Stark snorted and dropped his feet, sitting up and looking at the two men who were across from him. “Your proposition doesn’t make sense,” he said bluntly. “I’m Iron Man. I have the Avengers. I don’t need protection. Especially not from the FBI.”

“This isn’t so much for you as it is for them,” Clint cut in, looking up from the floor. Coulson turned a chilly gaze onto him, but the archer ignored the silent reprimand. “They need _you_ to catch who _they’re_ after.”

“Barton, that information is classified,” Coulson stated.

Clint snorted and didn’t bother to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “With all due respect, _Sir_ , Tony was going to crack the files and find out about this as soon as we got back to the Tower,” he said, his tone cold. Phil held back a wince and his heart dropped heavily in his chest. Clint still hadn’t forgiven him for going up against Loki without any back-up. And even though it hadn’t been Phil’s idea to fake his death, the trust that the two had once had was still a long way from being mended. It hurt Phil deeply, but he understood. 

“I wouldn’t have to wait until I got back to the Tower,” Tony said indignantly, as if the very idea was offensive to him and his technological know-how. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table in front of him in a mildly threatening manner, as if it was a weapon. And in the hands of Tony Stark, it was. “So. Care to explain to me what’s going on?”

Fury breathed heavily through his nose as he looked at the team of heroes gathered in front of him. Clint was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trailing across the people in the room, flicking frequently over to Phil. Tony was now sitting forward, his fingers tapping a light rhythm against the table that his phone sat not so innocently on. Steve Rogers was frowning deeply as he tried to piece together what was happening in the meeting. Dr. Bruce Banner was fidgeting with his glasses, his shoulders hunched in on himself as he tried to stay calm. Fury knew that mentioning the FBI while on the helicarrier surrounded by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents must have set him on edge. Widow’s face was as blank as it always was and Thor was absent, at home in Asgard. 

“We were contacted by the FBI,” Coulson started, hands behind his back. “They’re currently tracking a serial killer who is targeting high profile businessmen and entrepreneurs.” 

“And they think Tony is this guy’s next target?” Steve asked, a look of alarm flickering across his face. 

Fury nodded and rose from his seat, his leather coat shifting with his movements. “They do, yes. The killer is attacking at large fundraisers. And the biggest one happening in the next few weeks is -,”

“For the Maria Stark Foundation,” Natasha intoned, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. 

Coulson nodded. “Exactly.” 

“That’s a pretty bold move, to go after Tony,” Bruce said as he slid his glasses back onto his face. “It’s common knowledge that he’s Iron Man. And that he’s one of the Avengers. Does this killer really think that it will be so easy to waltz up and just, what? Slit Tony’s throat?”

“Hey, hey!” Stark said, raising his hands in a placating motion. “Can we not talk about slitting my throat? I didn’t think you had it in you to think thoughts like that, Bruce. Especially not about me.”

“Who hasn’t had thoughts like that about you?” Barton said with a smirk. “We’re only human.”

“Hey!” Stark repeated, pointing his finger at the marksman. “No more arrows for you.” Clint snorted in disbelief because he knew that it was an idle threat. Within a few days he would be called down to the lab to test some new, ingenious arrow that the man had concocted. 

“What are we going to do?” Steve interrupted, sending a disapproving look to Tony and Clint, who had started making faces at each other. “We can’t let this guy kill any more people.” 

“The FBI wants to be present at the event,” Coulson explained.

“Won’t that just spook the killer?” Bruce asked. 

“They’ll be undercover,” Clint said, flipping Tony off in an “I’ve-got-the-last-word-now-what-bitch” gesture to their face war. “The killer won’t know that they’re there, but the FBI will be able to spot him before anything happens to Tony.”

Steve shifted. “I don’t exactly like using one of our teammates as bait.”

“Don’t worry about it, nothing’s going to happen. You guys will be there. The FBI will be there. And I’m Iron Man. We’re golden,” Tony said with a cocky grin. Widow rolled her eyes and everyone else frowned. Fury clenched his hands into fists behind his back in annoyance. 

“Stark - ,” he snapped, but Tony raised a hand to cut him off, the grin sliding from his face as his features fell into a serious expression

“Fury,” he said quietly. “It will be fine. I’m not worried. The team will protect me.” The two stared at each other, gazes hard, before Fury gave a sharp nod. 

“Fine,” the Director said. “The FBI team will be landing in a few hours. I’ll bring them over to the Tower so that they can set up and we can debrief you.” 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tony protested, watching as the man swept towards the door. “I didn’t give you permission to use my Tower! Fury!? FURY!” 

Coulson hid his chuckle and trailed after the Director. “See you tonight, Stark.”

\--

\--

“This is so not fair! Do you realize how not fair this is? I could help! I could -,”

“Garcia,” Aaron Hotchner said, shaking his head in fond amusement as the tech on screen ranted. “You are going to help us from Quantico.”

“But -!” 

“Hey, Baby Girl, stop geeking out on us, please. We’re going to have a big enough problem with Reid,” Morgan said with a grin. Spencer Reid looked up from the file that he was perusing and narrowed his eyes at the older agent, which made the man’s grin widen even more. Rossi chuckled while JJ and Prentiss shook their heads. 

Garcia shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing around her face. “This isn’t fair,” she whined. “How many times is our department going to get to work with the _Avengers_?! The ACTUAL _Avengers_! I should be there!”

“Next time, Garcia,” Hotch soothed. 

“Next time?!”

“Garcia, I hate to be a stick in the mud and interrupt this moment that you’re having,” Rossi said, shifting in his seat, “but was there something that you needed to tell us when you called?”

The colorful woman on the screen huffed. “No. There’s been no updates. I just wanted to call to tell you how not fair this is and that you should all be ashamed of yourselves.” With that, she shut off the connection, the screen returning to the FBI logo. 

“Wow,” Prentiss said, shaking her head. “We’re going to have to bring her back something seriously amazing if we want to get back in her good graces.” 

“It probably would have been easier to just let her come along,” Spencer quipped, propping an ankle on a knee and exposing a bright red sock underneath the cuff of his slacks. 

Hotch sighed. “Probably.”

\--

\--

The team landed at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s airstrip an hour later, just as the sun was beginning to set. As they stepped off the plane, they were greeted by Fury and Coulson, who stood stoically side by side on the tarmac.

“I’m Aaron Hotchner,” Hotch said, reaching forward to shake first Coulson’s hand and then Fury’s. “Thank you for meeting with us.”

“Thank you for informing us about what’s happening,” Fury said. “We’re going to do everything that we can to help you.” 

“We appreciate that,” Hotch said with a nod. “I’d like us to get started as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Phil said. “We’ll be heading over to the Tower to get everyone settled and then debrief the team.”

Morgan quirked an eyebrow. “The Tower?” he asked curiously.

Phil nodded. “Stark Tower,” he said. “Tony Stark has _graciously_ allowed you the use of his Tower as a base of operations as well as a place for you to stay while in New York.” Prentiss looked over at JJ, the two wearing nearly identical looks of impressed awe. Rossi and Morgan both grinned. Spencer swallowed heavily. 

“Thank you,” Hotch said with a slight smile. “That was very kind of him.”

Fury snorted. “Of course,” he drawled. He turned, his coat snapping out behind him as he started away towards the SUVs parked a few paces away. “If you’ll follow me.”

“I have the feeling that we’re missing something,” Morgan said, even as he shouldered his go-bag and followed after the Director. 

Coulson allowed a small smile to flirt around the corners of his mouth. “It’s best not to ask.”

\--

\--

The BAU team couldn’t help but gape up at the building that they were standing in front of, the busy sounds of the New York streets clamoring loudly behind them. They knew that they were coming off as extremely unprofessional, but they couldn’t help it. The pictures of the Tower had not done it justice.

“It’s a bit of a monstrosity,” Coulson quipped, coming up behind the agents. 

“Stark Tower is the only building in the world that is self-sufficient and running on clean energy. Even if the entire state of New York lost power, this building wouldn’t be affected,” Spencer said, tilting his head back to try and see the ‘A’ that had become iconic since the Battle of New York. “It’s an amazing feat of engineering genius and will revolutionize the world.”

“Keep that opinion to yourself, Agent,” Fury grunted. “We don’t need Stark’s ego getting any bigger than it already is. Let’s get inside so that we can debrief and you can get started.” Morgan tugged gently on one of Spencer’s curls as they made their way inside of the building, laughing when the younger man batted irritably at his coworker’s hand.

“We’ll get everyone authorized so that you may come and go as you please,” Coulson explained, nodding to a woman that sat behind the reception desk in the lobby. She smiled and pressed a button underneath the table that allowed the small door attached to her workspace to swing open and Phil held it while the team and Fury streamed past him. The group headed over to the lone elevator that was situated behind the desk and Coulson placed his hand on the scanner embedded in the wall. 

“Pretty high tech elevator,” Rossi commented, watching as the green light caressed Phil’s palm. 

Fury nodded. “Has to be,” he said. “This is the private elevator. Only goes to the upper floors of the Tower, which is reserved for the team. We can’t have crazy fans making their way to the penthouse to try and climb into one of the Avenger’s beds.”

“Or anything crazier than just some bed warming,” Phil said darkly. The team nodded, well used to the crazy actions that obsessed fans could commit. 

“Good evening, Agent Coulson,” the smooth voice of Jarvis greeted them as they stepped into the elevator. The BAU team tensed, eyes darting around the small, enclosed area at the sound of the disembodied voice.

“Hello, Jarvis,” Phil answered. “Tony should be expecting us.” 

“Indeed he is,” Jarvis said as the elevator began to rise smoothly. There was not a panel of buttons to push to reach a desired floor, the walls of the machine an unblemished metal. “Sir has been most vocal about the situation.”

Fury smirked. “I’m sure he has.”

“Uhh . . .” Emily said, her eyes flicking back and forth between Fury and Coulson. “Who’s Jarvis?” 

“I am Master Stark’s Artificial Intelligence unit,” Jarvis answered. 

“Jarvis is going to be your new best friend for the next few days,” Fury elaborated. 

Spencer blinked rapidly a few times. “An A.I.? You mean - ,”

“Reid,” Hotch interrupted quietly and the young man closed his mouth, a sheepish twist to his mouth. 

“Sorry, Hotch,” he muttered. 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, the FBI agents still feeling uncertain while the S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives stood comfortably to one side. The elevator stopped quicker than expected and the doors slid open silently. “The Avengers are gathered in the living room, Agent Coulson. I have alerted them to your presence,” Jarvis said. 

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Phil said, gesturing for the others to exit the area ahead of him. Once everyone had vacated the elevator, Phil gave a calm smile and headed forward with a quiet, “brace yourselves” tossed over his shoulder. 

“Don’t let them get under your skin,” Fury coached. “Especially Stark. They’re harmless.”

“Harmless?” JJ said in disbelief. 

Rossi stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Maybe harmless in theory.” 

“Even then I don’t think they would be harmless,” Hotch said. 

Morgan placed a gentle hand on Reid’s shoulder. “We need you to remain professional, Pretty Boy. Can you do that?” He snickered as Reid shoved at him and stalked forward, following after the rest of his team. 

“Welcome, Agents, to what is apparently your temporary home away from home,” Tony said from behind the bar. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“We should really get to work -,” JJ started, but Rossi stepped forward and strode purposely over to Tony. 

“A scotch would be great,” he said.

Tony grinned and grabbed a second tumbler. “My kind of agent.” He passed over the glass to Rossi before his dark brown eyes surveyed the rest of the group. “How about the rest of you? Are any of you fun like your friend here?” 

“Tony,” Steve said disapprovingly.

“Can it, Stark,” Fury demanded. “They have work they need to do.”

Tony sauntered from behind the bar, Rossi a few steps behind him. “Well then,” he stated with a grin. “Let’s get down to business.”

The FBI agents glanced at each other, Steve’s faint “I got that reference” drifting to their ears as they started to introduce themselves and began to explain what they had been working on.

\--

\--

“The charity ball is in three days,” Hotch said, glancing around at the group of heroes gathered before him. “There isn’t much that we can accomplish before then.”

Morgan picked up from where his boss left off. “What we want to do is go in undercover as guests. That way we won’t alert the UNSUB that we’re here and onto them.”

“Do you really want to be so far away from Stark when there is a killer targeting him?” Natasha asked, her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to pick their plan apart. She was uncomfortable with their presence in the building that had become her home and felt that they were incapable of protecting one of the men that she now considered family.

“If Mr. Stark is okay with it, we actually wanted to put one of our agents with him as his date,” Prentiss explained. 

“Why can’t Natasha do it?” Clint asked from where he was perched on the back of one of the couches. “No offense, but I think Tony would be better protected with her on his arm than one of you.”

Tony shook his head. “She’d kill me before the actual killer would,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Besides, everyone knows that Widow would never go on a date with me. I’m too good for her.” He smirked. 

Natasha’s eyes narrowed and her fingers twitched, as if itching to reach for one of the many knives that she kept on her body. “Watch yourself, Stark,” she hissed. Just because she considered him family didn’t mean he was safe from the bodily harm that she could inflict. 

“Agent Prentiss or Jareau are ready to accompany you,” Hotch stepped in, trying to diffuse the potentially violent situation that was bubbling. 

Stark shook his head. “As lovely as you two ladies are, and believe me, you are lovely,” he said with a slight leer. The two women shot him unimpressed looks and he smiled widely at them in return, amused by how much they were like Pepper. “I have another agent in mind.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and your teammates are off limits, Stark,” Coulson said from the kitchen, where he was brewing cups of coffee for everyone assembled. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Agent, I _am_ a genius. I knew that.”

“Tony, what are you planning?” Bruce asked in quiet exasperation, even as his head falling into his hands was to hide his soft smile of amusement. 

“Who did you want to have with you then?” JJ asked. 

“I think that I would like to have Dr. Reid on my arm that night,” Tony beamed.

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Clint burst out laughing, Natasha pursed her lips and Bruce hid his chuckles behind his hands. 

Fury glared. “This isn’t the time for games, Stark!” he snarled. 

Tony shook his head. “It’s not a game!” he replied. 

The BAU team turned to look at Spencer, whose mouth had dropped open and cheeks had flooded with color. Morgan grinned so widely that it looked like his eyes had disappeared and he nudged Spencer in the ribs. “You’re going to have the best story to bring home to Garcia, Pretty Boy,” he cooed. 

Tony’s gaze darted back and forth between the two of them. “Unless,” he said, his finger beginning to mirror the motion of his eyes. “Unless you’re dating tall, dark and handsome there. I don’t want to come between anyone.”

Morgan raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “He’s all yours, Mr. Stark.”

“ _Morgan!_ ” Spencer wailed, glaring at the man with a betrayed look in his honey colored eyes. 

Tony smiled. “Perfect.”

\--

\--

Steve cleared his throat after some more time had passed, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “It’s getting late. How about we order some dinner?”

Clint moaned happily. “Dinner sounds amazing. Cap, this is why you’re in charge!” Fury cleared his throat pointedly, but the marksman ignored him. “Everyone alright with Thai?”

“Thai food sounds great,” Bruce chimed in, glancing up from the crime scene photos. 

“Awesome,” Tony smiled. “Jarvis, pull up some menus please.” 

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis said, multiple holographic screens smoothly sliding into existence in the air. The FBI agents stared, watching as the Avengers along with Fury and Coulson easily maneuvered their way through the screens. 

“Oh wow,” Morgan breathed. “Garcia _really_ should have been here.”

“I think she would have died and gone to tech heaven,” Prentiss agreed, nodding in disbelief.

Tony smirked and flicked one of the menus over to Hotch, who couldn’t help but startle slightly when it stopped perfectly in front of him. “Get whatever you want,” the billionaire said, his eyes skimming the team. “It’s on me tonight.”

“It’s on you every night,” Clint corrected, punching him in the shoulder on the way to the kitchen. Tony rubbed the injured area lightly with an exaggerated scowl decorating his handsome face. “Make sure you get a couple of orders of golden pillows!” the archer shouted. Phil glanced over towards where the man had disappeared, a warm feeling settling in his chest. Golden pillows were his favorite. 

“One step at a time,” Natasha murmured quietly out of the side of her mouth as she took a seat next to her handler. 

Phil gave her a small smile. “Yes,” he agreed with a nod. Rossi watched them curiously, but smiled when he locked eyes with the other agent. Phil returned the look before turning his attention back to the files in front of him.

“This is amazing,” Spencer said, leaning over his boss’ shoulder to watch him scroll through the menu. “An interactive interface like this is almost unprecedented. How did you -?”

“Come on, kid,” Morgan intervened, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Talk shop with the other genius later. Dinner is more important right now.” 

“Always thinking with your stomach, aren’t you Morgan?” Prentiss jibed playfully. 

JJ snorted and grinned. “I’m sure we don’t want to consider what _else_ he could be thinking with,” she said. Reid wrinkled his nose and Morgan laughed loudly.

“Hey, hey,” he said. “That’s not polite dinner table conversation!” 

“I’m sure nothing with you ever is,” Rossi commented. 

Morgan placed his free hand against his chest as if wounded by the veteran profiler’s comment. “Rossi, how could you?! I thought you would be on my side! You, of all people!”

“Morgan, unlike you, I don’t kiss and tell,” Rossi replied with a smirk. The darker agent moved the hand that was on his chest to his forehead and flung his head back like a distressed maiden from times long past. JJ and Emily snickered loudly and Reid gaped at him as if he had lost his mind. 

“Children,” Hotch said with a long suffering sigh. “Please. Maintain yourselves and pick out what you want for dinner.” The Avengers and company watched the interaction with bemusement. 

Clint emerged from the kitchen, clutching an armful of water bottles. “I think they may be worse than us,” he chuckled. 

“No one can be worse than us,” Tony corrected while Bruce made his way over to help Hawkeye set the water down on an empty spot of the table. 

The group ended up ordering enough food for what seemed like an army, but what was a normal amount for the Avengers. They moved the files from the table back to the boxes that they arrived in, Tony complaining loudly and promising to have Jarvis scan everything in so that all of the information could be pulled up on the holographic screens and they could get rid of the clutter. Clint laughed loudly and shook his head, pointing chopsticks at the inventor. “Since when do you care about clutter?” he crowed. “Have you seen your lab?”

“Of course I have, I basically live there,” Tony scoffed, spooning rice onto his plate. “But that’s not clutter, Legolas. That’s organization.” 

“In your dreams,” Clint retorted. 

“Not quite,” Tony said, his eyes flicking over to where Spencer was sitting between Morgan and Hotch. “My dreams are totally different. But I assure you they’re just as fun as my lab.” Natasha chucked a little container of spices at Tony, who let out a sharp bark of pain as it made a solid connection with his forehead. 

“Nice shot,” Fury smirked. 

Tony pointed at him with his free hand, his other rubbing at his rapidly reddening forehead. “Security breach,” he stated. 

“He’s been here for hours, Stark,” Coulson said calmly, hiding his soft look as Clint plopped two of the golden pillows onto his plate. “You should have sounded the alarm ages ago.”

Steve glanced over to where the FBI agents were sitting together and gave them a shy and embarrassed smile. “I feel like I should apologize for our behavior. I hope we haven’t scared you.”

“It takes a lot to scare us,” JJ said with a grin. 

Rossi nodded and reached for his second tumbler of scotch. “Besides,” he said, taking a small sip and savoring the bite of it on his tongue. “I don’t think we could have paid for better entertainment.”

\--

\--

Spencer stood slowly from where he was hunched over the table, his eyes drilling into the piece of paper in his hands. “Guys, guys,” he says, waving his hand. His team looked sluggishly over at him, the excitement of the day beginning to takes its toll. “The UNSUB’s a woman,” the youngest said, lifting his head. His eyes were feverishly bright, lack of sleep and too much caffeinated sugar affecting him.

“Do you really think so?” JJ asked, rising from the chair that she had been slumped in and making her way over to him. Hotch was on his other side, looking at the notes that Reid had made on the paper he was clutching, his brain working rapidly to piece everything together. 

“He’s right,” Hotchner said, reaching for the sheet that Reid handed him easily. Morgan and Rossi crowded around their boss to read what was written on it. Emily was slumped against the table, her head pillowed in her arms as she snoozed. The Avengers were scattered around in various stages of dozing off, except for Fury and Coulson, who had retreated back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony had also disappeared into his lab hours ago. 

Steve stirred and stretched, his back popping loudly. “What’s going on?” he asked, any lingering tiredness fleeing from his body when he saw the agents up and about. 

Morgan glanced over at the Captain, a slow smile blooming across his lips as he took in the superhero. Steve gave him a slight smile in return, his cheeks coloring pink. Clint stirred from his sprawl on one of the couches, his eyes instantly clear of any remnants of sleep as he turned his attention to the group gathered at the table. 

“We’ve figured out that the UNSUB is a woman,” Hotch answered. 

“A woman?” Steve parroted, stunned. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and bounced his gaze between each member of the assembled FBI team. 

Reid nodded. “Female serial killers are relatively rare, but from all the evidence that we have I think that’s what we’re dealing with here.” 

“So what does that mean?” Clint asked from his spot over on the couch. 

“It means that we’ve narrowed down our suspect pool,” Hotch said. “I’ll call Garcia in the morning and have her compile a list of the women that were at the events and then have her narrow it down to those that were present at all of them.” 

Morgan nodded. “That list is probably pretty short.” 

“Jarvis can do it for you now,” Steve suggested.

“Thanks, but that’s okay,” JJ said, smiling at the man. “It’s better if we let Garcia do it.” 

“Only to protect ourselves from her wrath,” Morgan explained with a grin. Steve looked slightly confused, but he returned the smile and nodded. 

“Why don’t you all turn in for the night?” he suggested, watching as a huge yawn overtook Reid, one long fingered hand reaching up to cover his mouth. “There doesn’t seem like much more you can do right now.” 

“Cap’s right,” Clint chimed in, standing. Natasha had opened her eyes, but otherwise hadn’t moved from her curled up position. Bruce was sleeping on the other end of the couch that Clint had been sitting on, oblivious to those around him. “Everything will still be here in the morning.” 

Rossi yawned as well. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, scratching his chin. 

“Get some sleep,” Hotch agreed, watching as JJ went over to shake Prentiss awake. After dinner, they had all been shown to the rooms that they would be staying in for the next few days, where they had unpacked and freshened up before returning to work on the case. “We’ll meet back here at seven.” 

“See you in a couple of hours,” Emily muttered, shuffling by on her way to the elevator. JJ gently said goodnight to everyone and trailed after her to ensure that her friend ended up in her bed instead of passed out in the corridor. Reid followed after with a sleepy wave, his steps heavy as his caffeine and sugar buzz finally began to wear off.

“We’ll see everyone in the morning,” Hotch nodded to the lingering Avengers before he, Morgan and Rossi vacated the area as well, the elevator doors sliding soundlessly closed behind them. 

“Well,” Clint said brightly after a moment, glancing back and forth between Natasha and Steve. “They aren’t so bad.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the flu. Or an ear infection. Or something, I dunno, but I'm miserable. Thanks for all of the amazing comments last chapter, I really enjoyed reading them and it means so much to me. I'm also extremely grateful for the kudos. I hope you like this chapter; it isn't beta read, so please excuse any mistakes. 
> 
> The next chapter is going to take longer to get out, but I'm trying my best to make it snappy. Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are adored.
> 
> **Note** : Edited - August 4, 2014

**Chapter Two**

Early the next morning, the BAU team was unsure what to do with themselves.

Hotch had already called Garcia and given her the instructions to create a list of all the women who had attended each of the galas. Until they received the list, they couldn’t deliver the profile to the police and security teams that would be on duty the night of the charity event for the Maria Stark Foundation. 

“I feel like I should be doing something,” Prentiss commented, glancing around at her friends. They were all gathered around the table that they had eaten dinner at last night, mugs of coffee sending up steam into the air in front of them. 

“It is a little odd,” JJ agreed. 

“There isn’t much we can do right now,” Rossi said, lifting the cup to his lips for a drink. He continued to speak after he had taken a few swallows. “Garcia is getting our list together of female suspects and then from there we can apply the profile to each of those women and see who fits. Until then there isn’t much for us to do. We can’t exactly leave the Tower; if the UNSUB is watching Mr. Stark, we don’t want to tip her off.” 

“Rossi’s right,” Morgan said, rising from his seat. “It looks like we have a bit of a vacation for the next few days.” 

“Morgan,” Hotch said disapprovingly, watching as the younger man took his cup and headed towards the kitchen for a refill. Rossi grinned in amusement. 

Reid took a deep sip from his own mug, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to wake himself up. Morgan looked at him with fond exasperation when he stepped back into the room, shaking his head and smothering a chuckle by bringing his own coffee up to his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone less functional before a cup of coffee,” he said, once he had swallowed. 

“You haven’t seen Stark,” Clint said, breezing through the room and violently startling everyone. He grinned over his shoulder at them as he made his way into the kitchen, the laughter clear in his eyes. The FBI team was tense for a few more minutes, the adrenalin at being snuck up on lingering in their systems. 

Steve furrowed his brow as he came in from his run, a worried frown tugging at his lips as he took in the agitated state of the agents. “Is everyone alright?” he asked. “Has something happened with the case?” 

“Way to jump to worst case scenario, Cap,” Clint called from the kitchen. A look of understanding dawned on the super soldier’s face.

“He snuck up on you, didn’t he,” he stated. 

“Does he do that a lot?” Prentiss questioned. 

Steve chuckled slightly. “He’s not the only one,” he said. “Hell of a way to wake up, though. Does anyone want any breakfast?” 

“That’d be great,” JJ said, rising from her seat. “Let me help.” Steve gave her a bright smile and the two disappeared into the kitchen. 

Morgan’s eyes followed after them, his gaze lingering on the spot where they had been for a few moments before pulling his attention away. Rossi cocked an eyebrow over at Hotch, who shook his head minutely and took a sip of coffee. “Awake now, Pretty Boy?” the dark-skinned agent asked. 

“I certainly hope that’s not going to be my wake-up call every morning,” the genius muttered, shaking his head and settling back into his chair. 

“Seconded,” Rossi said. “I don’t think my heart could handle it.” Prentiss gave the man a slightly disbelieving look before shaking her head and turning back to the magazine that was open in front of her. 

Shuffling footsteps caught their attention a few minutes later. Tony appeared, his eyes nearly closed as he headed across the room. He was still dressed in the clothes from yesterday, but they were now marred with grease and oil, a streak running across his cheek from his ear to his jaw. His hair was an absolute mess, with certain patches sticking straight up while others were plastered flat against his skull. He was muttering to himself, his lips forming around calculations even through his exhaustion. 

“Jarvis,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “Make a note of that.” 

“Of course, sir,” the AI humored his creator, even though there hadn’t been anything to make a note of. 

“Great. Good. Coffee,” Tony mumbled, heading over to Reid and plucking the mug from the agent’s hands to drain the contents. Spencer gaped up at the billionaire, unsure what to do as he watched the man’s throat bob up and down with each swallow. 

The other members of the team watched in amusement as Tony lowered the mug back to the table and licked his lips, Reid looking forlornly down at the empty piece of ceramic. “More coffee,” Tony muttered, turning towards Morgan and reaching for his cup. 

“Yes, Tony. More coffee,” Steve said, maneuvering his way over to the man and smoothly placing a steaming mug of the beverage in his hands. As Tony gulped down the liquid, the blonde guided him into the seat next to Reid. Clint materialized with another mug of coffee that he smoothly switched out with the empty one that Tony had just lowered from his mouth before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

Steve patted the inventor on the shoulder. “He’ll be asleep in a few minutes,” he said to the agents around him. “Breakfast will be ready soon. We’re making waffles.” With a last smile, he headed back to the kitchen. 

“I was wrong,” Morgan said quietly, watching as Stark slumped forward onto the tabletop, his breathing slowing with every moment that passed until it was the smooth, even breathing of sleep. “There is someone less functional before coffee than Reid.”

“I think that may be an understatement,” Prentiss uttered in disbelief.

\--

\--

Coulson showed up at the Tower shortly before lunch, depositing his jacket at the table and rolling up his sleeves so that he could help with food preparation. He, Steve and Bruce moved around each other expertly in the kitchen as if they had done it hundreds of times before, a well oiled machine working together to create a delicious spread for the inhabitants of the Tower to enjoy.

Clint and Natasha were in the living room with the BAU team watching a movie, the archer shouting at the screen every few minutes at the stupidity of the plot. Natasha would elbow him harshly in the ribs every time he spoke, causing the man to let out an uncomfortable whine before the whole cycle repeated itself. Rossi watched the two in amusement, almost reminded of the way that Reid and Morgan acted with each other at times. Hotch gave his friend a small smile as he came to the same conclusion. 

“Jarvis, pause the movie, please,” Coulson said, coming out of the kitchen with a dishtowel thrown over one shoulder and a large platter in his hands. “And could you please tell Tony that lunch is ready?” 

“Of course, Agent Coulson,” Jarvis replied, the movie going still on the screen. The group clustered in front of the television turned to look at him, JJ and Emily rising from their seats and heading into the kitchen to help bring out the rest of the food. 

“Whatcha got there, Coulson?” Clint asked, standing from the couch and stretching towards the ceiling. 

Phil deposited the platter he was carrying onto the center of the table before straightening up and addressing his asset with a gentle smile. “Burgers and fries.” 

Clint moaned happily and made his way over to the table. “My favorite,” he said with a grin.

Steve, Bruce and the two FBI agents exited the kitchen, loaded down with dishes heaped with food that was all placed on the table. “Come and get it,” Steve smiled. Natasha and the rest of the BAU team made their way over, grabbing up paper plates so that they could build their burgers. Laid out were various vegetables, cheeses and condiments, as well as two different types of French fries and a large bowl of salad. 

“Jarvis, is Tony on his way up?” Bruce asked, loading red onions onto the two burgers that he had put on his plate. Morgan reached for the pepperocinis while Rossi went for some spinach for his burger. 

“I have saved and powered down all of Sir’s work,” Jarvis answered, his tone almost smug. “He is on his way up now.” 

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Bruce smiled and a grin crossed Steve’s face as he loaded his own plate with sweet potato fries. 

“Of course, Dr. Banner,” Jarvis responded. 

Morgan’s eyes cut over to Steve, whose grin was still decorating his lips. “Does that happen a lot?” he asked. 

“More than it should,” Steve answered, looking up. He held a knife smeared with mustard in one hand, which he handed to Reid when the man reached for it. “It makes me wonder how Tony survived before we all moved into the Tower.” 

“I survived just fine, Spangles,” Tony grouched, shuffling into the room. “Which one of you turned Jarvis against me?” 

“He’s not against you, Tony,” Bruce soothed, grabbing a second plate and beginning to construct another burger. “He’s just looking out for your well being.”

Tony huffed. “I was in a groove!” he protested, placing his hands on his hips. 

“Your groove will still be there in an hour,” Natasha said, narrowing her eyes at the inventor. “Now eat.” She pointed at the plate that Bruce had filled for him and placed back onto the table. Tony’s nose wrinkled in disagreement, but he picked it up and placed a few fries into his mouth. 

Clint placed his half empty plate on the table and rubbed his hands with a napkin. “Do you know what this meal needs?” he demanded, looking at everyone who had finally settled into seats. 

Natasha quirked an eyebrow. “What?” she asked. 

“Milkshakes,” Clint declared with a firm nod. Steve brightened up and Emily let out a happy sounding groan. “I’m blending. What flavors does everyone want?”

“I’ll help,” Coulson said, standing. Clint looked at him for a few moments before nodding his agreement. 

“You can be sous chef,” the agent agreed. “Now. Flavors. Or I’ll choose. And you don’t want that.”

Tony smirked. “Do your worst, Hawk Guy,” he challenged.

Clint grinned devilishly. “You’re going to be sorry you said that, Stark.” He made an imperious gesture for Coulson to follow him and then pivoted with a flourish, sashaying his way towards the kitchen. 

“Make sure he doesn’t poison us, J,” Tony said after a few seconds of stunned silence. 

“Duly noted, Sir,” Jarvis replied.

“This is delicious, thank you,” JJ said after a few more minutes had passed. Loud clanks came from the direction of the kitchen, followed by the sound of the blender whirring away. 

Emily nodded and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I haven’t had a burger this good in a long time,” she said. “Thank you.” 

“It’s our pleasure,” Steve said as he began to build another burger. 

“Hey, Rossi,” Morgan called, leaning forward in his seat to see around Steve in order to look at the older profiler. “You should cook tonight.”

Rossi looked at him blankly. “What.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” Prentiss said, turning her gaze to Rossi as well. “You taught us how, we could help you.”

“You cook?” Tony asked, his attention diverted from his food to the Italian.

Dave sighed. “I do,” he admitted. “The rest of the team does not.”

“Hey,” Hotch chided.

“Except Aaron,” Rossi demurred. “And fine. The two of us will cook tonight.”

“Why did I get roped into this?” Hotchner protested.

“You wanted the recognition that you can cook,” Rossi quipped. “This is what you get.” The group at the table laughed, including Hotch, who nodded his head in agreement. The low sound of Jarvis’ voice came from the kitchen, an indignant squawk from Clint sounding afterwards. 

“Sounds like trouble in there,” JJ said.

Steve gave a heavy sigh. “It usually is when Clint’s involved.” 

Morgan grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Sounds like he’s your Reid.” Spencer narrowed his eyes at his friend from his seat next to Bruce and his teammate just gave him a bright smile in return. 

The blender started up again, the sound background noise as the conversation around the table drifted to various topics. “Hurry it up in there, Barton!” Tony called. “By the time you’ve finished we’ll be done eating!” 

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Clint shouted in back. “They’re nearly ready!” 

“I think I’ve aged ten years since you’ve been in there!” Tony returned.

“That vast age difference is going to make getting into Genius FBI Agent’s pants even tougher then!” Clint snarked. “I bet you didn’t age well!” 

“Clint!” Steve gaped, his blue eyes huge. Reid choked on a piece of burger that he had just taken a bite of and Bruce smacked him on the back a few times. Natasha closed her eyes as if she were in pain, even though her face remained stoic. Morgan burst out laughing while the girls tried to smother their own giggles. Hotch and Rossi stayed silent, though their eyes sparkled with mirth. 

Tony rolled his eyes, but a faint dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. “Classy, Hawkeye,” he muttered, even though the man wouldn’t hear him. 

Coulson reappeared at that moment, his lips pulled into a frown, but Natasha could tell that it was all for show. “Sorry about him, Dr. Reid,” he said, placing a thick, chocolatey milkshake in front of the youngest agent. “Sometimes Barton’s mouth runs away from him.” 

Spencer waved his hand in dismissal, even though his face was still burning red and a few coughs slipped past his lips. Coulson set the second milkshake that he held in front of Steve and the third in front of Bruce, then headed back into the kitchen to collect a few more. Clint emerged before Phil, four glasses held in his hands that he placed in front of JJ, Prentiss, Hotch and Rossi. He sent Reid a vaguely apologetic smile as he settled back into his seat. Phil arrived with the last of the milkshakes that he handed out before he sat back down and once again dug into his lunch. 

The rest of lunch passed uneventfully, conversation flowing easily between everyone. The FBI agents began to relax even more in the presence of the superheroes, laughter echoing loudly around the room as stories about various adventures were exchanged. Bruce and Tony even roped Spencer into a lengthy science conversation that had everyone else present at the table staring at them in confusion. The three were so deeply involved with each other that they didn’t notice when the others started clearing the table around them and were only pulled out of their debate when the movie from earlier began to play again.

“What happened?” Tony asked, looking around at the empty table. 

“You were talking science,” Steve answered. He was in an armchair near the windows, a sketchbook propped up on his knee and a pencil poised above the paper. 

“Sorry we didn’t help with clean up,” Bruce said sheepishly, running a hand through his tousled curls. 

Morgan sunk deeper into the plush leather of the couch cushions, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back as he closed his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he soothed the scientist. “You cooked, we cleaned.” Steve’s hand began to glide across the page of his sketchbook, the sound of the pencil lost under the noise from the film.

“But you can clean up after I cook tonight,” Rossi quipped. “I can’t stand dishes.”

Bruce smiled lightly. “Deal,” he agreed. He turned back to Spencer and Tony. “I’ve got a couple of things that I can show you both in the lab, if you aren’t busy.” 

“Never too busy for science,” Tony grinned, pushing away from the table. His hand landed on Spencer’s bony shoulder, giving it a companionable squeeze. “How about you, Vanilla Bean? Going to join us?” 

“Uhh,” Reid stuttered, his face flushing again as he stammered an affirmation and followed the two men towards the elevator. 

“He’s certainly a handful,” Prentiss grinned. 

Coulson’s hand twitched as he resisted the urge to reach up and pinch the bridge of his nose. “You have no idea,” he deadpanned.

\--

\--

Later that night, Garcia called with the list of female guests and background checks on all of them.

“Nice job, Garcia,” Hotch praised, looking through the files that the tech had sent him on a hologram that Jarvis had pulled up for him. “Any red flags?” 

“There’s some pink ones; alcohol use, drug use, estranged parents, you know, typical things when dealing with families with money. But I haven’t found anything to sound the alarm about,” Penelope responded, continuing to click away on the other end of the phone line. “I’ll keep looking, though.” 

“Thanks, Baby Girl,” Morgan called out from his spot on the couch. Hotch disconnected the call and continued to run through the information that Garcia had gathered, a frown marring his face as he thought through all of the facts that they had. 

“Twenty five women is a sizeable amount to try and keep an eye on at the fundraiser,” Prentiss murmured, leaning over the unit chief’s shoulder to peer at the details they had been given. 

“We’ll have to narrow it down even further,” Rossi said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Is there anyone on that list that has had extended contact with all of the victims?” 

“I’ll get Garcia back on the line,” Hotch said, reaching for his phone that was resting on the table. 

“Pardon the intrusion, Agent Hotchner,” Jarvis chimed in suddenly. “I may be of some assistance in your investigation.” 

JJ blinked. “We wouldn’t want to bother you, Jarvis,” she said. 

“It is no bother at all, Agent Jareau,” Jarvis soothed. “With your permission, I would like to contact technical analyst Garcia and assist her with figuring out which of the women on the list have had prolonged contact with each of the men that were killed.”

“Of course, Jarvis,” Hotch said. Rossi glanced up at the ceiling in bemusement and the female members of the team were grinning widely. “Thank you.” 

“Garcia is going to get a kick out of that,” Prentiss laughed. 

“It will go even quicker with Jarvis helping out,” Coulson commented. He was sitting at the table that everyone had been spending a lot of time at, a series of files opened before him as he went through paperwork that had been submitted to him about a mission that had been completed a few days earlier. “But it will still be a few hours.” Clint was clanking around in the kitchen, making coffee for the few that had requested it. 

Morgan sighed heavily and settled deeper into the couch. “Looks like we’re back to doing nothing for now.” 

“In that case,” Steve said, rising from the recliner that he has claimed after dinner, “Why don’t you and I head to the gym?”

Morgan peeked at the Super Soldier from one eye while his brows crawled up his forehead. “You and me? In the gym?” 

Steve smiled. “Yeah. You said you would show me some moves and teach me your technique.” 

Morgan laughed lightly. “I just thought you were being polite when you agreed to let me show you,” he said, opening both eyes. “I’m sure you don’t need me to teach you anything.” 

Steve shrugged and held out his hand to the agent. “I bet you can teach me a thing or two.” Morgan struggled to suppress a smirk as he grasped the Avenger’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up from the spot he was sitting in. 

“Maybe I can,” Derek smiled.

“This I have to see,” Prentiss said, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the two in mirth. 

Morgan clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Sorry, Prentiss,” he said, his hand sliding down to rest on the small of the other man’s back. “This is a private lesson. Lead the way, Captain.” 

“Come back in one piece, Morgan. I can’t find a replacement on such short notice,” Hotch said dryly. 

Derek chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind, Hotch.” Steve headed towards the elevator with Morgan, the agent keeping an almost possessive hand on the other man’s back as they disappeared from sight. 

Rossi shook his head and gave a quiet snort. “I hope they’ll both be able to deal with the long distance.”

“You know Morgan doesn’t do relationships,” Prentiss rebuffed. 

“Steve will change that,” Clint said as he emerged from the kitchen with a tray filled with coffee. He set one next to Coulson and then handed the rest out to the assembled government agents, an extra cup that Morgan would have claimed left behind. “Where’s Tony? I can always pawn off coffee onto him. He gets antsy if there’s ever too much blood in his caffeine system.” 

“Still in the lab,” Coulson answered, taking a deep swallow of the drink that had been left for him and hiding a happy sigh at the fact that it was perfectly prepared. 

Clint chuckled. “You may have lost a second agent, but this time to marathon Science! binges,” he said, lowering the tray with the lone cup of coffee onto the table. He leaned his hip against the back of Phil’s chair, his body a warm presence at the older man’s back. 

“Was that capital S necessary?” Prentiss asked. 

“Very,” Coulson and Clint replied in unison. Rossi chuckled. 

“Should we go check on them?” JJ asked worriedly, her arms crossed over her chest. 

The elevator doors swished open silently and Bruce stepped through, balancing three empty plates in one hand and rubbing at his eyes with the other. “Hey, Bruce,” Clint called. “Come up for air?”

“I’ve reached a place where I can stop for the night,” the scientist answered, smiling tiredly. “I was going to make some tea and head to my room.” He caught Dave’s gaze. “Thank you for dinner, it was delicious.” 

“My pleasure,” Rossi grinned. “I’m glad to see that the three of you actually ate.” 

“It was a struggle getting the other two to stop so that they could eat,” Bruce said with a slight laugh. “Thanks for bringing it down to us, Phil,” he said as he made his way by and into the kitchen to wash the plates from dinner. “I’m sure Tony and Spencer would appreciate some coffee,” he called over the running water. 

“Then they should come up here and get some,” Clint grumbled. Hotch hid a smile behind his hand. 

“Clint - ,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Barton said, cutting Phil off before the man could finish the gentle admonishment. He placed his hand on his handler’s shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “I’ll take it to them.”

\--

\--

“I don’t think this is the smartest thing . . .”

“You’re a genius, I’m a genius. This can be nothing but smart.” 

“That’s really not how it works . . .”

“Trust me; you’re going to do just fine. Now, put your hand here and - ,” 

Reid yelped and jumped, the blowtorch falling from his hand and causing both men to leap away from the scorching tool. Tony was laughing wildly, gesturing for the younger man to hand him the gloves so that he could pick it up and kill the power safely. Once he had turned it off, he placed it back on the worktable and discarded the gloves next to it. “So, maybe that didn’t go as well as I was hoping.” 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that you were going to turn it on and power tools were never my strongest point -,” Spencer started, his eyes huge in his pale face. Stark put a calming hand on his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” he soothed. “No harm done. We’ll start on something smaller.” 

“Maybe I should go,” Spencer said. 

“Nonsense!” Tony scoffed, waving his free hand dismissively. “There is a whole wide world of Science that we still need to explore!” 

“Don’t start singing, Stark,” Clint said as he made his way into the lab, a coffee mug held in each hand. “I don’t think the Tower could handle it.” 

Tony made grabbing motions towards the coffee, a greedy look suffusing his features. Clint smirked and took a few teasing steps away from the billionaire, who squawked in disagreement. “Give me that coffee, Barton!” he snapped. The blonde laughed, but obligingly handed over the drink to both the men in front of him. 

After taking a long sip, Tony narrowed his eyes at Clint. “I said ‘whole wide world’, not ‘whole new world’. Get your Disney references right.” 

Clint raised his hands in surrender. “Forgive me for not being as well versed in kids’ movies as you are.”

“Hey,” Tony said, pointing at the archer. “Disney is not just for kids. It’s for people of all ages.”

“For _kids_ of all ages,” Clint quipped. “And you certainly fit the bill for a kid.” 

“As if you can talk, Bird Brain,” Tony grinned. Clint shrugged with a smile and turned his attention to Spencer, who had been standing silent and watching the interaction between the two roommates. “How are you holding up down here, Reid? He hasn’t sexually harassed you at all, has he?” 

“I resent that!” Tony objected, turning away and heading towards his desk. “I’m the perfect gentleman!” 

“That would be Steve,” Clint corrected before he quirked an eyebrow towards the FBI agent. 

Spencer smiled slightly, his hands clasped around the steaming cup of coffee. “I’m great. There’s some truly fascinating stuff down here.” 

Clint gave a noncommittal hum. “Good to hear,” he finally said, tucking his hands into the pockets of this jeans. “We’re probably going to watch a movie upstairs if you can pull yourself away from everything long enough. You’re welcome to join us.” 

“J, cue up _Aladdin_ for the group,” Tony said from where he was seated a few feet away. “Clint needs to brush up on the classics.” 

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis answered dryly. 

Barton rolled his eyes and turned on his heel. “Don’t try and seduce the good doctor with a serenade,” he called out over his shoulder. “I’ve heard your singing. It won’t work.” 

Spencer flushed brightly as Tony shot to his feet. “Hey! My singing is great!” he shouted. “I could release an album! Today! And it would be amazing! It would sell thousands of copies! _Millions_ of copies!” Clint waved a dismissive hand before disappearing into the elevator.

Stark huffed and shook his head before turning his attention to the younger man. Reid blinked and clenched his hands tighter around his coffee cup. “Is he always like that?” he squeaked. 

“Clint’s natural disposition is set to smartass,” Tony replied. “But he means well. Most of the time.” He placed his own coffee down onto the table and came back over to Reid’s side.

“So. Wanna try some soldering?” 

Spencer blanched.

\--

\--

Derek choked out a breath as he landed heavily on his back after skidding a few feet across the mat. Steve was at his side in an instant, kneeling next to the fallen agent and looking at him worriedly. “Didn’t I tell you that you didn’t need my help?” the dark-skinned man croaked.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry,” Steve said fretfully, his hands twitching as if he wanted to run them over Derek to check for injuries. 

Morgan gave a strained chuckle and sat up. “No harm done.” The super soldier helped the other man to his feet, hovering around him to make sure that he had his balance, much to Morgan's amusement. "Steve, really. I'm not hurt."

"Right, right," Steve said with a nod, taking a few steps away. "Sorry."

The agent caught his wrist before he could back-peddle even more. "Hey, hey," he soothed, his voice low and his thumb rubbing against the soft skin over the cluster of veins on the underside of the blonde's wrist. "You're fine, Steve. You're just fine."

"Derek," Steve murmured, blue eyes flicking between the hand on his wrist and the dark eyes staring intently at him. The artist in Steve itched to return to the sketch that he had started of the man while he had been relaxing on the couch, complete the way the light touched his soft looking skin and the different shadows that it caused to play across his face. His fingers also twitched to put onto paper the contrast between their skin tones, the intoxicating and fascinating play of shades forever immortalized with loving detail.

Morgan smiled slightly and tugged gently on the wrist in his grip, pulling the other man back over to him. Steve placed his free hand on Derek's shoulder, feeling the rough, slightly damp cotton of his shirt under which firm, solid muscle lurked. "This okay?" Derek asked, sliding his other hand around to the small of the blonde's back and drawing him even closer.

"I think so," Steve responded, but the words came out like as a question instead of a statement.

"We'll go slow," Derek reassured. "And you guide me every step of the way." He gave Steve's wrist a tender squeeze before he released him, taking a few steps away. "Now," he said with a smile. "I think it’s your turn to show me a couple of moves. You ready?"

Steve grinned, his heart light. "I'm ready."

\--

\--

"Nice job there, boy wonder," Tony praised as he looked at the piece that Spencer had put together. "I knew you could do it."

"Thanks," Spencer said with a smile, his cheeks flushing in pride. It felt amazing to be acknowledged by Tony Stark for the work that he had done.

Dum-e chirped from its charger, U answering with a whine and a twist of its claw. The two sounded both curious and almost amused, which Spencer didn't think would have been possible. "No cheek from the peanut gallery over there," Tony commanded, slanting his eyes over to his two robots. "Your opinions are unsolicited." Dum-e gave a beep in reply and Stark pursed his lips, shaking his head.

"Those two," he muttered, turning back to Reid. "Sometimes they're almost worse than Clint." 

“At least it keeps things interesting,” Spencer said with a faint laugh. 

Tony grinned. “That it does.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Now that you’re all warmed up, it’s time to get to the real work.” Reid quirked an eyebrow, watching as Tony flitted around the lab. “J, bring up the schematics for the latest suit.” 

“Certainly, Sir,” Jarvis replied, screens blooming to life in front of Spencer, who’s eyes went huge in his handsome face. 

“Take a look at those,” Tony said, peeking at the younger man out of the corner of his eye and hiding a smile at the reverent look at that was painted across his features. “I could use your help on some of the wiring.” 

“Mr. Stark -,”

“Ah, ah!” the engineer cut him off, shaking his head. “What did I say?” 

Spencer smiled. “Tony,” he corrected himself. 

The older man beamed. “That’s what I like to hear,” he hummed. His smile faded as he watched as Reid’s eyes flicked rapidly across the screen, scrolling through all of the data and memorizing every piece easily. His heart thumped harshly in his chest. He was showing a lot of trust to a man that he had only known two days, but there was something special about Dr. Spencer Reid. 

He just hoped that it didn’t blow up in his face. 

Reid cleared his throat and made his way over to Tony, the screens disappearing in his wake. Stark watched as he approached, his eyes raking over the tall, slim body hidden behind slightly rumpled slacks and a button down, the soft looking brown hair curling haphazardly on top of his head. Spencer deposited his coffee mug on the desk before he came to a halt next to the superhero. “There’s a problem with your math,” the agent said bluntly. 

“What!?” Tony crowed loudly, even as a grin began to blossom across his lips. “There is something wrong with your eyes if you think there’s something wrong with my math!”  


Jarvis helpfully brought the schematics back up as Spencer began to explain the error that he had found, his hands moving and gesturing as he rattled off the figures. Tony chuckled softly and shook his head, picking up a screwdriver to fiddle with as he listened to what the younger man had to say.

There was definitely something special about this man.

\--

\--

“I’ve got seven names,” Garcia said as soon as the call was connected with her team the next morning. “I’m still looking into their backgrounds, but these are the women that had extended contact with our victims.”

“Any of them have any history with Tony?” Prentiss asked, glancing around at the other agents that were present. Rossi and Hotch were huddled together, looking at the list of names that Penelope had sent them. JJ was sitting at the table, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back into her seat, her empty coffee mug sitting on the table in front of her. 

“Nada,” the tech answered, her nails clacking across her keyboard. “But I’ll keep looking.”

“Have Jarvis help you with that,” Hotch said. “He knows Mr. Stark better than any of us. But good work, Garcia.”

“Thank you, my glorious leader,” Garcia replied, a smile in her voice. “Jarvis, with me!” 

“Of course, Ms. Garcia,” Jarvis answered before the line went quiet. 

JJ gave a small laugh. “That is a dangerous partnership,” she commented. 

“Understatement,” Rossi replied. Emily grinned. 

Hotch looked up from the list of names that he had been looking at. “Has anyone seen Morgan or Reid?” 

JJ shook her head. “Not since last night.” She stood from her seat and grabbed her empty mug, making her way towards the kitchen for a refill. 

Their unit chief frowned. “We need to catch them up on what Garcia told us.”

“I’m sure they’ll show up soon,” Emily said.

“I can always call them,” Rossi said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and lifting an eyebrow towards Hotch. The man being addressed glanced at his watch and then shook his head. 

“We’ll wait a little bit longer,” he said. “Why don’t we have some breakfast first?”

\--

\--

Derek showed up not long after, dressed for the day even as he limped slightly to an empty seat. Rossi quirked an eyebrow at the younger agent. “Do we even want to know?” he asked with a devious grin.

“It’s not what you think,” Morgan answered. 

“Not for lack of trying, I’m sure,” Prentiss smirked. Derek shot her an unimpressed look as he lowered himself into his chair, wincing as his back came into contact with the suddenly unforgiving material. 

“We’ll get you some aspirin,” Hotch interjected before his team could take the line of questioning further, even though a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“I’ll get it, I have some in my bag,” JJ said, standing up. 

Morgan nodded. “That would be great, thanks JJ.” The blonde disappeared towards her room and Derek glanced around the table. “Where’s Reid?” 

“Hasn’t shown up yet,” Rossi answered. “No one has seen him since he disappeared with Stark last night.” A worried frown overcame Derek’s features and he made to stand up, but a heavy hand on his shoulder prevented him from leaving his seat. 

“He’s fine,” Steve soothed. He was covered with sweat, his shirt plastered against his chest and his hair sticking to his forehead. “Jarvis shooed the two of them to bed around three this morning, isn’t that right, Jarvis?”

“Indeed, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis answered smoothly. “Doctor Reid has finally started stirring and should be up shortly.”

“Oh,” Derek said simply. Steve gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and Morgan reached up to place his hand over the super soldier’s, returning the squeeze with one of his own. 

His teammates around the table all looked at him pointedly, but he ignored them. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier, Jarvis?” 

“I was never asked,” Jarvis said. The agents swore that there was an amused tone coloring the words.

“Sass,” Clint called as he sauntered into the room. “So much sass. I like it, J.”

“Thank you, Agent Barton. I do try my best.”

Clint chuckled and made his way into the kitchen. “I’m thinking French toast this morning. _Hawaiian_ French toast.” 

Prentiss groaned. “I’m going to have to drag myself to the gym today,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “Eating all of this delicious food and not chasing down an UNSUB isn’t easy on a girl’s figure.” Hotch and Rossi glanced at each other, but wisely kept silent. Steve and Derek gripped each other’s hands tightly and also didn’t comment. 

“Morning,” Bruce said as he stepped off the elevator, breaking the slight tension that had settled over the room. 

“Good morning, Bruce,” JJ said as she reemerged from the hallway, a bottle of aspirin clasped in her hands. She threw it towards Derek, but Steve intercepted it before handing the pills over to the agent with a shy smile. JJ grinned and a smile bloomed across Bruce’s face.

“A good morning, indeed,” the scientist said with a chuckle. Steve’s cheeks flushed slightly while Derek grinned. “Can I get anyone some coffee?”

“Reid’ll need some when he comes in, that’s for sure,” Morgan said. “And I’d also take a cup, if you happen to be going into the kitchen.” 

Bruce grinned. “I don’t see that being a problem,” he said, shuffling his way over to the kitchen. He was dressed in a pair of tan slacks and a forest green shirt, his dark curls a wreck on his head. “Has Tony come up yet?”

“We haven’t seen him since he left for this lab yesterday after lunch,” Rossi said. “You sure he was alive when you went to bed last night?” 

“Alive and well,” Bruce confirmed. “Jarvis, is Tony up yet?” He paused in the doorway of the kitchen so that he could hear the answer to his question. 

“Sir has yet to rejoin the land of the awake and functioning,” the A.I. responded. 

“How much sleep has he gotten?” Steve continued.

“He has had approximately four and a half hours of sleep,” Jarvis answered.

“Let him sleep a bit more,” Bruce said. “I’ll wake him in a few hours. Thanks, Jarvis.” He turned and disappeared into the room behind him. Steve patted Derek’s shoulder before he too left for the kitchen. The group around the table descended into a companionable silence, the sound of the superheroes puttering around in the kitchen drifting around them.

Banner appeared a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of coffee that he deposited in front of Derek before returning to help his teammates with breakfast.

Spencer stumbled in after a couple more minutes had passed, his hair an absolute mess on his head and struggling to keep his eyes open. “Morning, Pretty Boy,” Morgan said with a grin. He held out one of the cups of coffee, which Reid immediately seized and took greedy gulps of. He frowned once he lowered the mug from his lips. 

“There wasn’t any sugar in that,” he said, his lips poking out in what could nearly be called a pout. Rossi chuckled and an amused smile played across Hotch’s lips. Derek laughed.  


“Sorry, Spence,” JJ smiled. “We’ll get you another coffee with plenty of sugar in it.” 

Spencer gave the blonde a sleepy smile. “Thanks, JJ.” She grabbed his mug and swooped into the kitchen, returning in moments with a sugar bowl, spoon and a piping hot cup of coffee. Reid immediately began to dump mounds of sugar into his mug, his team watching in fascination; no matter how many times they had seen it, the amount of sweetener that the youngest consumed in his beverage was always startling. 

“Order up!” Clint crowed, sweeping into the room with a platter on each hand, one heaped with eggs while the other was piled with French toast. Steve trailed after him with bacon and sausage, as well as freshly washed berries, while Bruce brought up the rear carrying syrup, powdered sugar and plates. The FBI agents deeply inhaled the delicious scents of the breakfast that the men had prepared, reaching out to help place the food on the table and pass out plates and silverware. 

“This looks delicious,” Prentiss said, eagerly placing two slices of French toast on her plate. 

“It really does,” JJ agreed, reaching for the bowl of berries. “Thank you so much.”

Clint beamed. “It’s nice to have more people to share my cooking with. The team gets tired of my recipes.” 

Steve shook his head as he settled in the empty chair on Derek’s right, Reid having made himself comfortable in the one on his friend’s left. “Clint, stop making up stories,” he chided gently. “We love you’re cooking.” The archer preened and plopped himself into the seat next to Reid, reaching over to playfully ruffle the agent’s curls. Spencer flushed, but couldn’t help the smile that erupted. It was nice, being accepted by others that weren’t his team. 

“Natasha’s at S.H.I.E.L.D. this morning and won’t be joining us, so everyone feel free to dig in,” Bruce said with a smile. 

Breakfast passed amidst amiable chatter and laughter. Steve and Derek leaned towards each other, discussing their sparring from the previous night and the various techniques that they still wanted to learn at some point. Bruce sat with Prentiss, talking about the different places that they had visited around the world and demonstrating the languages that they knew to Rossi, who was both amused and impressed. Hotch, Reid and Clint were in deep discussion about the pros and cons of a bow verses a rifle, dissecting the difficulties of the different weapons as well as the variety that each type came in. 

Tony tottered his way in sometime after everyone had sat down, surprising them all with his presence. His eyes were nearly closed and he was wearing a baggy pair of sweatpants and a black tank top. “Zombie’s a good look on you, Stark,” Clint grinned, even as he rose from the table and hurried into the kitchen for three cups of coffee. By the time he had returned, Stark had just planted himself into the chair that Clint had vacated and was groping blindly for a nearby cup of coffee. Barton deposited one of the mugs he was holding within easy reach and the daily ritual of caffeinating Tony began. Steve took his empty plate and filled it with some eggs, bacon, two pieces of French toast and a spoonful of berries and placed it in front of his still mostly asleep teammate, watching carefully to make sure that the man didn’t try and use it as a pillow. 

“Incoming call from Agent Coulson, sir,” Jarvis chimed in suddenly. Tony waved his hand in a vague gesture, still mostly asleep. 

“Good morning,” Phil’s voice echoed around them. “I hope everyone is doing well.”

“Peachy keen, jelly bean,” Clint answered. “What can we do for you this morning, sir?”

“I was calling to see if there had been any more progress on the case,” Phil stated. 

Hotch pushed his empty plate away and reached for the files that he had been looking at before breakfast had started. “Not as much as we were all hoping,” he replied. “Our list of 25 names has been narrowed down to seven, all of whom that have had interactions with the victims, but we can’t find any connection to Mr. Stark.” 

A hum came from across Coulson’s end of the line as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent took in the information and thought through it. Clint was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his face serious. Bruce and Steve both looked contemplative, while Tony continued to try and pull himself from the fog of sleep. 

“What’s the list of names?” Coulson asked. Aaron read them out to the other man, glancing at the Avengers around him as he did so. None of them recognized any of the women that had been mentioned. 

“Tony,” Phil called. The engineer grunted slightly in recognition. “Anyone ring a bell with you on that list?” 

Stark licked his lips slowly and Spencer tried not to stare in fascination at the motion. “Nothing,” he answered gradually. “But Pepper would know better than me.” 

“I’ll contact her,” Coulson replied. 

“Look deeper into their backgrounds,” Clint said suddenly, his brows furrowed heavily. “Especially the people they know. Including family members, living and dead.”

“You think they could be impersonating someone else to get in?” Spencer asked. 

Clint shrugged. “Maybe just using their name. These are typically a close knit group of people; they always know about who’s marrying into the money, who’s being kicked out of it and when someone dies. There is no way that they could be impersonating someone else, but the killer could very well be part of this class of people.”

“That’s a very good point,” Rossi said, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on the table.

“We should also find out if there is a way to know if someone sent a person in their place to these parties,” Clint continued. 

“I’ll get Garcia on it,” Emily said, pulling out her phone and pressing the number for Penelope. 

“Also have her cross check the final guest list for the Maria Stark party to all the other ones,” Clint said. Prentiss nodded in recognition of Barton’s request. 

Tony sighed heavily, finally looking a little more alive. All three of the coffee cups in front of him had been drained of liquid, but they would be refilled soon enough. “Has anyone considered that I might not actually be the next target?” 

“That’s a highly unlikely probability,” Spencer said, his voice quieter than usual. Tony glanced at him, brown eyes taking in the subdued set of the younger man’s shoulders and the anxious set of his mouth, and he nodded slightly. 

“Okay,” he said gently. If Reid was so worried, he would take this situation seriously. 

“Even if you weren’t,” Hotch cut in smoothly, “We still need to catch the UNSUB before she hurts anyone else.”

Prentiss ended her call with Penelope and shoved her phone back into her pocket. “Garcia is going to try and see if there’s a way to find out about substitutions at the parties, but she doesn’t think she’s going to have much luck,” she explained. “She’s also sending over all of the photos from the events from the various photographers that were there.” 

“I’ll take a look at those,” Clint volunteered. 

Steve nodded. “I’ll help,” he said. 

“I’ll contact Pepper to get that list from her,” Phil said. “I’ll be in touch in a few hours.” 

“Thanks,” Derek said before the call disconnected. 

“So,” Tony said, dragging out the “o”. “How about those pictures? Jarvis?”

“Certainly, sir.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if there is an automotive museum in New York, but we are going to pretend that there is if there isn't. We are also going to pretend that it is a multi-story building because that's apparently what my brain decided it wanted to be. I also want everyone to keep in mind that this was only supposed to be a VERY short one shot where Tony and Spencer have the sex, but obviously that did not happen and so I just came up with some random motive on the fly, so please forgive me for that and I hope it doesn't take away from the story too much. 
> 
> Also, still not beta, so I apologize for mistakes. I will eventually read over this chapter and correct everything.
> 
>  **Note:** Edited - August 5, 2014.

**Chapter Three**

The day of the Maria Stark event dawned crisp and clear, with the promise of heat heavy in the air. The BAU team was feeling a bit high strung about the upcoming evening; they hadn’t found anything in the pictures that they had gone through and all of the leads that they had had with their suspect list hadn’t panned out. They had come to a dead end and were anxious about going in blind.

Surprisingly, Stark’s teammates were also having a difficult time dealing with the looming situation. The knowledge that one of their own was in danger was not settling well with any of them. It was one thing if someone got hurt during battle, but it was another to know that someone was deliberately targeting their teammate and they didn’t have enough information to stop it. Natasha had spent most of last night glaring at the federal agents, unhappy that their involvement, which she had always seen as unnecessary, hadn’t yielded any results.

“Hey,” Tony said, knocking on the doorjamb of the bedroom that Spencer had claimed during his stay at the Tower. The younger man looked up from the book that he was breezing through, his eyes locking onto the man standing in the doorway. 

“Hey,” the agent responded quietly. 

“Can I come in?” Tony asked curiously. He had a Stark tablet clutched on one hand and was dressed casually in a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt, the blue of the arc reactor shining through the thin material. 

Spencer nodded from his seat on the bed. “Sure,” he answered. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks.” Tony made his way into the room, while the lanky form resting against the headboard watched him curiously. He was unsure why the other man was here, but he certainly wasn’t against his company. During the few days that the team had been in New York, they had all grown surprisingly close with most of the Avengers, as well as Agent Coulson. It was wonderful getting to know the people behind the heroes that also helped save the world. 

“Well,” the billionaire said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, facing Spencer. “Tonight’s the night, huh? Should be a good time.”

“Tony . . .” Reid said, his face a mask of troubled emotions at the nonchalant way the man spoke about the danger that would be present tonight. He was similar to Morgan in that way; barreling ahead, aware of potential threats, but uncaring about his own safety for numerous reasons. 

“Hey, hey,” Tony said soothingly, reaching out and laying a hand on the younger man’s knee. “I’m sorry, I know you’re worried. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You should be _more_ worried,” Spencer shot back, his hands clenching around the book that was still clasped in his grasp. “Your life is being threatened!”

Tony swallowed heavily, his dark brown eyes locked onto the honey colored gaze that looked so distressed. “I’m concerned,” he said gently, his thumb rubbing back and forth against the corduroys that Spencer was wearing. “But I’m not worried. And I’m not scared.” 

“Why?” Reid questioned. “Because you’re Iron Man?” 

Stark gave a small shrug. “That’s part of it, sure, but that’s not the whole reason.” Spencer cocked his head curiously to the side and Tony smiled. “I’m not worried because I know I’m in good hands. I have _my_ team. And I have _your_ team. Sure, at first I wasn’t thrilled with the FBI sticking their noses in where I thought they didn’t belong. Then I met you guys and realized, yeah, this group isn’t so bad.” 

Spencer gave a hesitant smile. “I didn’t realize you were such a team player,” he joked. 

“Ah, ah, there’s that wit that I love so much,” Tony beamed. He gave Reid’s knee a squeeze. “Besides, you’ll be on my arm all night and I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

“Tony,” Spencer sputtered, pushing the man’s hand away and flushing an enticing red. Stark laughed and launched himself up to the headboard, wriggling until he was comfortably pressed shoulder to hip with the other man. Reid swallowed heavily, but stayed where he was, the warmth from the hero seeping into him and forcing him to hide the shivers that it caused. 

Tony showed the tablet he had been carrying at the younger man. “Want to take a science break?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Spencer smiled and reached for the device with a nod. Tony input the password and pulled up some schematics for the other to look at before handing it over. Reid’s eyes rapidly flicked over the screen, his mouth falling open as he read what had been opened for him. He whipped his head over to look at the dark haired man, an incredulous look on his face. 

Tony’s face was serious, but his eyes were warm. “I mean it,” he said, rapping his knuckles against the arc reactor plans that were showing on the screen of the tablet. “ _I trust you._ ”

\--

\--

Derek watched as Steve pummeled the punching bag, his blonde hair slick with sweat and his shoulders tense underneath his drenched shirt. He was the sure the super solider knew that he was hovering in the doorway, but the agent had yet to be acknowledged by the hero.

Rogers continued to slam his fists into the bag for a few more minutes before he straightened, grabbing the swaying object and making it go still. He glanced over his shoulder, finally acknowledging the other man’s presence. His face was pinched, the anxiety easily seen both on his countenance and in the blue depths of his eyes. “Derek,” he rasped.

“That was quite a beating you gave that thing,” Morgan said, making his way into the room. He stopped a few paces away from the blonde, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m surprised it stood up to it.”

“Reinforced,” Steve responded, giving the bag a slight pat before heading over to the bench where his water bottle rested. He sat down next to it and began to unwrap the tape from around his hands. “Tony saw the way that I was busting the bags during my workouts and made some ones specially designed to withstand the force of my hits.”

“That was a pretty cool thing for him to do,” Derek said. 

“Yeah,” Steve agreed quietly. “It was.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and tangling his fingers together in the space between his legs. His gaze flicked up to look at the agent standing a few feet in front of him, taking in the way that Derek stood with his legs braced apart, arms crossed over his chest and dressed in a tight, grey shirt with black jeans tucked into a pair of boots. His brown eyes were staring intently at Steve, his face smooth and calm. 

“Steve,” Derek started after a few beats of silence, uncrossing his arms and crossing the rest of the way over to the bench. “I know that you’re worried about tonight. And I know that you aren’t exactly thrilled with the lack of progress that my team made tracking the UNSUB down while we were here.” He settled himself onto the seat next to the soldier, turning towards him and resting a hand on the back of his neck, unconcerned with the sweat that had gathered there during the man’s workout. “But everything is going to be fine,” he continued. “Trust me.” 

“I do trust you,” Steve stated, conviction resonating in his voice. He straightened his back from where he had been hunched over, turning so that he was looking fully at Derek, their knees knocking together. “And I trust your team. But Tony’s my best friend; I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“I know,” Morgan soothed, his fingers playing with the short, soft strands of hair at the base of Steve’s skull. “I don’t want anything to happen to him, either. None of us do. And Reid is going to be with him all night tonight; he’s not going to let anything happen to Tony. None of us are going to let anything happen to _either_ of them.” His free hand came up to brush gently against Rogers’ cheekbone, uncaring of the sweat that now clung to both of his hands. 

Steve shivered, his upper body swaying towards the man in front of him. “Derek,” he whispered, eyes drifting shut. Morgan closed the gap between the two of them, pressing his lips against the blonde’s and pulling him even closer by the hand on the back of his neck. Steve reached out, hesitantly resting his hands on Derek’s shoulders as the two kissed, the scent and taste of perspiration heavy from Steve’s workout, but enticing because of the other ways it would be possible to make the blonde sweat. 

Derek made a soft noise of appreciation before pulling away. He placed a few more quick kisses on his partner’s mouth, teasingly gliding his tongue across the man’s lips before he straightened up. Steve let out a quiet, slightly unhappy noise before opening his eyes and looking at the agent in front of him with a slightly hazy look. Morgan smiled and couldn’t resist leaning forward for a few more lingering kisses. 

“Everything is going to work out tonight,” he murmured, running his hands through the soft stands of Steve’s hair. “Believe me, okay? 

“Okay,” Steve responded, pulling Morgan back to him for more kisses. Derek chuckled, but was more than willing to spend the next few minutes losing himself in the super soldier.

\--

\--

Later that day, the BAU team gathered at the table that they had been using to discuss the case while they had been staying in the Tower. They each had a garment bag clutched in their hands and were waiting for Coulson to arrive and escort them to S.H.I.E.L.D. so that they could inform the agents who would be acting as security on what behavior they should be on the lookout for.

The Avengers were also in the room, watching the FBI agents as they talked amongst themselves. It would be a few more hours before they had to get ready and leave for the party and they were unhappy that they weren’t leaving with Hotch and his team to help them prepare everything for tonight. Natasha was the tensest out of all of them, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed; she didn’t like the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see the venue and the security before she got there that night. Although Coulson was bringing the room layout for the Avengers to look at, it wasn’t the same as actually seeing it with her own eyes. 

Clint was also on edge, but not nearly as much as the redhead assassin was. Formal events always made him uncomfortable, especially since he had to be within the thick of things instead of looking at it from a distance, but he knew that there would be no causalities tonight. He had watched the way the BAU team had worked every possible angle that they could think of, as well as some ones that the Avengers had come up with, in order to catch the UNSUB before the gala. Despite all their work, this killer was tricky and was proving to be obnoxiously elusive. They hadn’t wanted to use Tony as bait, but it seemed as if it was the only way to draw the woman out and make sure that she ended up in prison. 

The archer placed a hand on Bruce’s back, rubbing the knots that had built up firmly but soothingly as they all waited for Coulson. The scientist leaned lightly into his friend, taking in the comfort that the other man was providing. The Hulk was prowling underneath his skin, growling at the fact that someone thought they could hurt one of his friends and get away with it. Bruce didn’t think it wise to force him into a tuxedo and drag him to the event. Everyone would have enough on their plates trying to keep their eyes on Tony and he didn’t want to add to it with worry that the Hulk would make an appearance, but Coulson insisted that all of the team members that were currently on Earth had to be at the fundraiser. 

Steve and Tony stood next to each other, their eyes flicking between each member of the FBI team, but lingering on the agents that had each captured their attention in the days that they had been there. The super soldier couldn’t believe that he had spent time so much time exploring the muscled torso that was covered by Morgan’s shirt, devouring each other as they pressed tightly together, calloused hands running over soft skin. His lips still felt swollen from their passionate kisses and his face was dusted a sweet pink just thinking about it. 

Tony glanced at his best friend in amusement, hiding his smirk behind his hand as he saw the way that the other man was flushing. His goatee was rough beneath his fingers as his dark eyes tracked Reid, who was gesturing wildly with one hand while he talked to Hotch and Morgan, his garment bag clasped in his other. Although Tony hadn’t gotten lucky like Steve seemed to have, the inventor was more than a little enamored with the genius young man that could not only go toe to toe with him, but could also send his heart skittering in his chest. He knew that while tonight might be dangerous, he had meant every word that he had said to Spencer while they were sitting on his bed; he trusted the people standing in this room to keep him safe and arrest the killer before anything happened. 

The elevator doors slid open and Phil strode out, taking in all of the people hovering in the room. He was dressed in his typically pristine black suit, his sunglasses still resting on his nose and hiding his eyes from view. Although outwardly everyone seemed relatively calm, Phil could sense the underlying tension that was emanating from them all. 

“Good afternoon,” he said, calling everyone’s attention to him.

“Looking sleek, Agent,” Tony grinned, dropping his hand from his mouth and crossing his arms over his chest. “Like a regular government spy.”

“Cute, Stark,” Coulson deadpanned, even as he fought the smile that was tugging at his lips. Clint watched him carefully, a grin spreading across his face as he watched his handler struggle not to show his amusement at Tony’s antics. 

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. “I thought so,” he said. “Here to take our new playmates away?” 

“Don’t worry, you’ll see them again in a few hours,” Phil said in a mockingly gentle voice, as if soothing a distraught child. 

“Wah,” Tony said, catching on to the tone. Barton snorted with laughter and Bruce couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him. Even Steve looked like he wanted to chuckle, but was holding himself back. 

Phil rolled his eyes, glad that he had kept his sunglasses on for the duration of the short jaunt to pick up the agents. “We’ll see everyone there,” he said, herding the BAU team towards the elevator. Reid caught Tony’s eye over Coulson’s shoulder, his stare worried, as if letting the hero out of their sight would put him in danger. Tony gave him a gentle smile and placed two fingers against his lips before tapping them against the reactor in his chest. Spencer gave the engineer a sweet smile as Tony silently reiterated the trust that he had in the lanky young man and allowed the elevator to sweep him away. 

“Come on, Stark,” Natasha said suddenly, grabbing the man by the back of his shirt and beginning to drag him away.

“Ow, ow, ow, _Natasha_!” he wailed, futilely trying to struggle out of the assassin’s grip. “What are you doing?!”

“We’re going to the gym,” the redhead said, throwing him into the elevator that Jarvis had helpfully brought back up to the floor. 

“What for?” Tony gasped, trying to dodge around the woman’s slim form. She caught him with a hand across his face, using his momentum to throw him back into the elevator car and stepping in after him. 

“I’m going to teach you some hand to hand combat for tonight. I need to make sure that you can defend yourself without your suit,” she said, her eyes shadowed. “Barton!” she barked and the archer scurried after the two, slipping in just before the doors of the elevator shut. 

Steve and Bruce blinked after their teammates. “Well,” Bruce said faintly, pulling off his glasses so that he could clean them on his shirt. “This should be interesting.”

\--

\--

Morgan came up behind Reid, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders and tucking him in close against his side. “How you doing, Pretty Boy?” the darker agent asked, looking at their reflections in the mirror in front of them.

Spencer sighed and leaned into his friend, dropping his hands from the bowtie that he had been wrestling with and closing his eyes. Derek peered at him worriedly, giving him a tight squeeze. “Hang in there, Reid,” he comforted. 

“Yeah,” the younger man responded, licking his lips. “I’m just . . .”

“Nervous?” Morgan finished and Spencer nodded. “Everything will be okay.”

“There’s a lot that could go wrong,” Spencer stated, opening his eyes once more, his hands beginning to flutter in front of him with anxiety. “Statistically - ,”

“Hey, hey, Reid,” Morgan interrupted, shaking his head. “This is life, man, not stats class. I know that you have all the facts and figures floating around in your head, but just forget about that. Tonight, you’re gonna be on the arm of the most eligible bachelor in the country, or the world, according to him.” Spencer gave a shaky laugh at that and nodded his head, even though his heart was thudding wildly at the mention that he would be spending the night posing as Tony’s date. 

Derek gave him a friendly shake with the arm that was around his shoulders and flicked him gently on the forehead. “I see you dissolving into a panic there,” he said. “What else are you worried about?”

Spencer was quiet for a few beats before he huffed in embarrassment. “It’s silly,” he muttered. 

“Tell me,” Derek cajoled gently. 

The slightly taller agent clenched his teeth, his right hand twitching as if it wanted to come up and cover his eyes. “I’m not the most,” he started slowly, but then furiously shook his head and changed gears. “What if Tony suddenly realizes that I’m nothing special?”

“Kid,” Morgan said with a gentle laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve got that guy wrapped around your little finger. There is nothing you could do tonight that could change that.” 

Reid shrugged, the sound of his jacket brushing against Morgan’s loud in the otherwise silent room. “I guess,” he muttered. 

“Trust me,” Derek insisted. “No more doubting yourself. And just know that by the end of the night the UNSUB will be in custody, Tony will be safe and you and I will be making out with a couple of superheroes.”

“Morgan!” Spencer screeched, shoving his friend away from him even as laughter bubbled up. Derek guffawed loudly, ruffling Reid’s hair and jumping away before the other man could hit him with the wild swings he was throwing. Spencer growled and tried to rearrange his locks into something more presentable, a pout heavy on his full lips. 

Derek watched as his friend readjusted himself in the mirror, his huge grin softening into a fond smile as he gazed at the tuxedoed man in front of him. “Hey, Reid,” he called out. Spencer met his eyes in the mirror, a curious look on his face as he lowered his hands from his hair. 

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“You’re going to knock Tony’s socks off tonight,” Derek said sincerely. “Even more so than usual.”

Spencer beamed, his smile nearly radiant. “Thanks, Derek,” he said quietly. Morgan gave him one last smile before he made his way from the room, leaving Reid to finish getting ready for the night.

\--

\--

“Everyone in position,” Coulson said coolly, S.H.I.E.L.D. persona firmly in place. He was standing outside the entrance to the museum, blending in with the other agents that were acting as bodyguards. He had on a pair of glasses that were linked to Jarvis, the AI scanning the faces of the guests that came in through the doors and was helping Penelope run through them while she was in her lair at Quantico.

A roar from the crowd and the flashes of the paparazzo’s cameras announced the arrival of one of the many celebrities that was on the guest list. Phil gave enough time for his glasses to scan the face of the couple that was being barraged for photos before turning his attention back to the red carpet. 

After a few more false starts, the limo holding the Avengers pulled up. “Incoming,” Phil said into the communicator, receiving confirmation from the FBI agents that were mingling with the guests inside. As soon as the door opened and Tony stepped out of the limo, the crowd out front went wild, screaming his name and trying desperately to snap a picture. He waved, his media persona wrapped around him as neatly as the custom tailored tuxedo that he was wearing. His hair was immaculately styled and he was also sporting a pair of expensive blue sunglasses. 

Steve exited the limousine after him, followed closely by Bruce. Both men looked stunning in perfectly fitted tuxes, the lines accenting broad shoulders and long legs. The two looked uncomfortable, but were valiantly trying to push through and appear confident and excited to be there. Phil couldn’t help the slight twitch of his lips at the sight of the two men, Tony squirming his way in between them and wrapping an arm around both of their waists, his smile warming at the fact that he was sandwiched between his teammates. The tension that had knotted Steve and Bruce’s shoulders disappeared as they curled their arms around Tony’s back, true smiles blossoming across their lips as they posed for pictures. 

Phil’s breath caught in his throat as Clint sidled up to his friends, sliding an arm around Steve’s narrow waist and donning a charming smile for the fans and press. He couldn’t believe that he would always forget how gorgeous the archer looked in formal wear until a mission came up that called for black tie. Clint was dressed in a beautifully cut ebony tuxedo, but he had switched out the traditional white shirt for a black one to go underneath the black vest. The only spots of color were the tie that he was wearing and his intricately folded pocket square, both of which were a matching royal purple. 

Natasha strode by confidently in a slinky emerald green gown, the color emphasizing the paleness of her skin and making the red of her curls stand out even more. Phil nodded to her as she made her way into the museum and then he turned his attention back to the other Avengers who were slowly making their way inside. 

Clint locked eyes with him, his gaze filling with heat as he took in Phil’s tux and the lust that colored the agent’s features. “Nice glasses,” he purred with a wink as he made his way inside. Tony smirked and wiggled his eyebrows playfully as he passed through the entrance. Bruce and Steve both smiled on their way in. Phil alerted the agents inside that the all of the Avengers had entered the museum and ramped up his observation of the guests even more.

Now that Tony was inside, the real danger began.

\--

\--

Inside, Spencer stood nervously next to Derek, their shoulders brushing slightly as they glanced over the various people milling around the room. The fundraiser was being held in an automotive museum, the cars lovingly lit to draw the attention of the patrons. There were multiple tables dotted around the area that held silent item auctions, ranging from expensive purses and jewelry to exclusive vacation and dinner packages in exotic locations. Caterers dressed all in black maneuvered through the crowd, offering champagne and hors d'oeuvres from shining silver trays. Photographers from the few publications allowed into the event snapped pictures of décor and guests alike, flitting from one side of the room to the other. There was also a DJ hidden in one corner, playing top 40 hits mixed in with beloved classic songs.

“Relax, Reid,” Prentiss muttered through her smile, gliding by on Rossi’s arm. She was dressed in a strapless lavender gown, her hair pulled into an elegant bun. Rossi gave the younger man an encouraging smile, looking dapper in his black tuxedo, before the two disappeared into the crowd. 

“She’s right, Reid, you look like you’re constipated,” Morgan snickered, looking over at his friend. Spencer narrowed his eyes, but refused to acknowledge what the other agent had said.

Derek grinned and then turned his attention to one of the caterers that had approached the two of them to offer an appetizer. He plucked two off of the tray with a nod of thanks and held one out to Reid, who glanced at it out of the corner of his eye before he grudgingly accepted the snack, his stomach rumbling in hunger. “Thanks,” he muttered. Morgan thought that, if they weren’t undercover at a high end gala and dressed in tuxedos, his friend would surely be scuffing his shoe against the ground like a shy, embarrassed teen.

“No problem, Reid,” Derek smiled, turning back to scan the crowd. Other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were stationed at various spots around the room, posing as security guards, making sure that the guests weren’t touching the cars, but also keeping their eyes sharp for any shady behavior. 

Phil’s voice crackled in their ear a few minutes later alerting the team that the Avengers were making their way up the stairs and inside, causing Spencer to instantly stiffen next to him. Derek watched as Natasha slid into the room, with Clint following a few paces behind her. Tony came in next, dressed in a light grey tuxedo that hugged his muscled frame perfectly, paired with a navy blue vest, tie and pocket square. He looked exceptionally handsome and Morgan glanced over at Reid, who was staring in awe at the inventor. He nudged the other agent playfully in the ribs with his elbow, jerking his head towards the hero. “You’re up, Pretty Boy,” he said. 

Spencer turned to look at the man next to him, his eyes wide in his rapidly paling face. The dark skinned agent patted his shoulder soothingly. “Remember, Reid,” he said, “Around your little finger.” The genius blinked a few times before he nodded, brushing his hands free of crumbs and taking a steadying breath as he made his way towards Stark. 

“Tony,” he called once he was close enough to the other man. The engineer turned, a smile breaking across his lips when he heard Spencer’s voice, but he froze when he saw how gorgeous the man looked in his tuxedo. The lines emphasized his lithe build and height, the dark colors making his pale skin nearly glow. Tony’s eyes roamed up and down the agent’s body, desire beginning to heat his blood and easily seen in his gaze. 

“Spencer,” he said, his tone husky. He cleared his throat and removed the sunglasses from his face, folding them and sliding them into his pocket. “You look amazing.” 

Reid gave an embarrassed smile, but he couldn’t tamp down the flutter of joy that made its way through him. “Thanks,” he said shyly. “So do you.” 

Tony beamed. “Only the best for you, Cool Whip,” he responded, reaching forward and clasping the younger man’s hand in his. Spencer laughed lightly, the quip putting him more at ease than he had been nearly all day. The guests around them peered at the two curiously, wondering who Tony was cozying up to this time, but Spencer couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was with Tony, their teams were around them and everything was going to work out fine. 

Stark tugged him close, twining an arm around his skinny waist and giving him a squeeze. “I’ve been missing you since you left this afternoon,” he said, guiding the agent through the crowd. 

Spencer chuckled. “I was only gone for a few hours,” he protested. 

“A few hours too long!” Tony said, squeezing the hip that was nestled in his hand. “Bruce was off meditating to make sure he didn’t Hulk out tonight, so I had no one to gossip Science with.” 

“How tragic,” Spencer joked. Tony laughed, reaching up to plant a playfully sloppy kiss on Reid’s cheek. 

“It was indeed tragic,” he agreed, stopping in front of the bar. Spencer scanned the people standing around them while the man ordered a drink, making sure that no one was eyeing Tony or his drink in a suspicious way. He knew that he didn’t have to worry about the bartender slipping something into the beverage; the people behind the bar were all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that were there to ensure that there was no foul play when it came to the alcohol being served. 

Tony handed Reid a cranberry juice, a tumbler of amber liquid still clutched in his own hand. Spencer cocked an eyebrow at the drink, watching as Stark took a deep swallow, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass. “That’s some good apple juice,” Tony whispered, pursing his lips and blowing a cool stream of sweet smelling air towards the younger man. “Don’t worry,” he continued, clinking his glass against Reid’s. “I’ll drink when I’m safe at home.” 

The two made rounds throughout the room, stopping to talk to donors and Tony’s business associates, as well as browse the silent auction items. Tony kept his hand on Spencer’s back, rubbing up and down gently and causing shivers to run through Reid’s body. Every once and awhile, they would see another Avenger or one of the BAU team out of the corner of their eyes, but they were always engaged in conversation and never had the chance to speak with them. 

“Hey,” Tony murmured, leaning closer to the younger man. Spencer tilted his head towards the engineer, loving the feel of Stark’s breath ghosting across his ear. “I think Cap may have put Agent Morgan’s virtue in jeopardy.” Reid choked on the sip of juice that he had just taken, raising his hand to cover his mouth and make sure that none of the red liquid spilled onto his white shirt. 

“What?” he croaked, once he had swallowed the last of the drink in his mouth and had gotten everything back under control. “What are you talking about?” 

Tony took a drink from his own glass, brown eyes pinned across the room. Spencer turned his head, glancing over his shoulder to see what could have captured the engineer’s attention. He gaze fell on Steve and Derek, who were standing close together, turned towards each other with their foreheads nearly touching as they spoke. Derek’s fingers were dancing along Steve’s elbow, one of the soldier’s hands resting on his shoulder and they were smiling brightly at one another.

“Oh,” the agent said quietly, watching the two of them. “They look good together.”

Stark returned his stare to Reid, his eyes warm. “They do,” he agreed, reaching forward and sliding his hand underneath the jacket to rest his palm against the younger man’s side, feeling the warmth of Spencer’s skin even through the layers that he was wearing. “I just hope the American Hero isn’t taking advantage of your friend’s innocence.”

Spencer gave him a flat look. “You’re joking, right?” Tony laughed loudly, pulling Reid flush against him and moving his hand onto the small of his back. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he conceded. “But I do know that those two got up to a little something before all of you left this afternoon.” 

“I probably didn’t need to know that,” Spencer muttered, shaking his head. Tony laughed again. 

“Well,” a voice interrupted, drawing the men’s attention away from each other. “Doesn’t this look cozy?” 

The woman that had spoken was a slim blonde with an uncomfortably pinched look on her face. Her hair was pulled into a purposefully messy bun and she was dressed in a short black dress that showed off her hips and the smooth skin of her legs. She had on a pair of strappy silver shoes that put her perfectly polished toes on display. 

“Can we help you?” Tony asked, his hand clenching in the fabric of Spencer’s vest. His voice was cordial, but his body was tense, eyes filled with dislike. 

“It’s been so long since we’ve last talked,” the woman simpered, motioning for a passing caterer to stop. “I just wanted to see how you’ve been.”

“Last I saw you, you were going to do a piece on Justin Hammer,” Tony said coolly. “How’d that go for you?”

Christine Everhart pursed her lips, eyes narrowing in rage at the inventor. “Yes,” she muttered, turning her attention to the caterer that was waiting at her elbow. She plucked the apple juice Tony had been drinking from his grasp and plunked it down on the woman’s tray, replacing it with a full champagne flute. She took one for herself and then shooed the server away with an imperious sniff. “No Miss Potts on your arm tonight?” she asked snidely. 

“Pepper’s in Tokyo for business,” Tony explained. “I have the honor of having the lovely Dr. Reid attend with me tonight.”

“ _Doctor_ Reid?” Christine questioned, running her eyes up and down Spencer’s form with disdain. “He seems a bit young to be a doctor.” She smirked. “And I didn’t realize you were into men, Tony.”

“What can I say,” Tony asked rhetorically with a shrug, raising the glass as if to take a sip.

Spencer’s eyes glanced between the crystal held in Stark’s grasp and the woman that was talking to them, an intensely uncomfortable feeling welling up inside of him. “Tony,” he said, pitching his voice in a pleading tone. The hero looked at him curiously, but Reid could see the confusion swimming in his eyes. “You know I don’t like the taste of champagne.”

“You’re not drinking it,” Christine snapped. 

“But he’ll certainly taste it on me, isn’t that right, my sugar dove?” Tony cooed, shoving the flute back into the blonde’s hand. He nodded towards the journalist and began to lead Reid away. “If you’ll excuse us, I see an important someone that I need to talk to.” 

“Sugar dove?” Reid asked as they walked away. 

Tony smirked. “I thought it was appropriate.” 

“Thank you for not drinking that,” Spencer said as they began to make their way towards Hotch.

“No need to thank me,” Tony responded. “I shouldn’t have accepted the drink in the first place. That was some quick thinking you did, calling my attention to it that way.”

Spencer blushed. “Yeah,” he coughed, turning his face away shyly. 

“Everything okay?” Hotch asked, taking in the looks on their faces. He was holding a glass of champagne, but it looked completely untouched. Like Rossi, he was dressed in the traditional black tuxedo with a white shirt, black vest and black bowtie and he looked exceptionally neat and handsome.

“There’s a reporter here that seems to have a grudge against Tony,” Spencer said, glancing over his shoulder to see if he could spot the woman. 

“We heard. But she didn’t make any threats against you?” Hotch asked Stark. 

“No threats, just verbal jabs,” Tony answered. “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

“Usually I would agree with you, but not tonight,” Hotch said. “What’s her name?” 

Tony blinked. “Uhh . . .” he hemmed, furrowing his brow. Hotch blinked at him and Tony rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. 

“We didn’t get a name, but if we can get the list of reporters who checked in tonight it might help jog Tony’s memory,” Spencer said. 

“Genius, genius, _genius_ ,” Tony praised, pinching Spencer’s cheek. “Let’s go find Agent and get that list.” Spencer quickly described to Hotch what the woman looked like before the two made their way towards the entrance, where Phil was still stationed.

“How are you this evening, Mr. Stark?” Phil asked genially. “Enjoying the event?” 

“Very much so,” Tony nodded. “I was just wondering how many people have checked in?” 

“Would you like to see the list?” Phil asked, cocking an eyebrow. Tony grinned. He knew he liked Agent for a reason; he caught on quick. 

“That would actually be perfect,” Stark said. Phil walked over to the woman who was checking people in at the podium set a few paces away from him, placing a hand on her shoulder and gesturing to the list, which she immediately handed him. With a nod of thanks, he made his way back over to Reid and Tony. 

Reid grabbed the list and tilted it towards Tony as the two scanned the names that were on the papers in front of them. “Who are you looking for?” Phil asked quietly, his eyes continuing to inspect the people gathered around the event. 

“A reporter,” Stark answered out of the side of his mouth, his eyes never leaving the list. “Blonde.”

“She’s wearing a black dress and silver shoes,” Reid elaborated softly. He continued to describe her and Phil cleared his throat, reaching up to touch the frame of his glasses.

“Jarvis,” he murmured. 

“I’m going through the photos now, Agent Coulson,” the AI responded. “I will have the result momentarily.” A picture popped up onto the HUD in the glasses of the reporter that the two men had described and Phil turned to the two men next to him with a smile. 

“Yes, Ms. Christine Everhart has already checked in and is somewhere inside,” he said, remembering the snide attitude that had been embodied in the blonde woman as she checked in. 

Tony hissed between his teeth. “Christine,” he muttered. 

“Jarvis, please send her name to Ms. Garcia back at Quantico,” Phil requested. 

“Already done, sir,” Jarvis answered. “I’ve also taken the liberty of alerting the rest of the Avengers and Agent Hotchner’s team of the potential suspect.”

“Perfect,” Coulson responded. He turned his gaze to Reid and Tony to make sure that they had also heard the message that Jarvis had just relayed.

Stark hummed, pulling Spencer even closer against his side. “Great,” he said. “We’ll just go inside and find her so that we can say hi.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Spencer said. “She must be busy; we wouldn’t want to bother her.”

“Reid’s right,” Hotch’s voice said over the comm. “Don’t approach her yet and don’t agitate her. We need to figure out if we will have more control if we have you go to her or if we wait for her to come to you.”

“Do as he says, Tony,” Steve joined in. “We want this to go as smoothly as possible.”

“Yeah,” Clint chimed. “But I’m sure Phil has his taser on him if you feel like doing something stupid.”

“Please,” Spencer implored quietly. 

Tony huffed, but nodded. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll behave.” 

“Good boy,” Natasha’s voice said, the smirk audible in her words. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Stark?” Phil cut in smoothly before the inventor could open his mouth and make some smart retort to the redheaded assassin. 

“I think we’re good,” Tony answered. “Thank you.” Coulson gave the man in front of him a bland smile, watching as the two headed back into the venue and away from the crowd that was still mingling outside. 

The two teams inside of the museum let out sighs of relief as they watched Tony guide Spencer over to the bar instead of searching out Everhart for a confrontation. “Keep him in your sights at all time,” Steve murmured across the comm unit. “Did we get background on this Everhart yet?”

“I have Ms. Garcia on the line,” Jarvis answered. “Shall I patch her through?” 

“Please,” Hotch responded. 

“Hello, gorgeous crime fighters,” the peppy blonde’s voice sounded in their ears. 

“What have you got for us, Baby Girl?” Morgan asked.

“It seems like you’ve got a huge Bingo with Christine Everhart,” the tech replied. “She’s got some red flags in her background. And I don’t just mean red, I mean _red_ red; we’re talking cherry flavored Kool-aid red, children’s liquid Tylenol red - ,”

“Garcia,” Hotchner interrupted, slightly exasperated. Clint’s amused snicker echoed down the line. 

“Right,” Penelope said, refocusing. “So, not only has she had a not so great childhood, she’s also had extended contact with all of the victims. She interviewed all of them at different times for various articles that she’s written.” 

“Criminal record?” Rossi asked into his flute of champagne, pretending to take a sip when he saw a woman eyeing him hungrily from a few paces away.

“Mostly minor things,” Garcia said. “But she does of a history of psychological concerns.” 

“Like what?” Prentiss questioned. A rather slimy looking man leered at her from where he was wrapped around another woman and the brunette agent turned away in disgust. 

“Depression, suicidal thoughts, and a whole lot of anger,” Garcia replied. “Oh,” she said suddenly, the sound of her fingers against the keys disappearing as she stared at something that had popped up on her screen. 

“What is it?” Steve asked, his voice tense. 

The clacking of the keyboard returned. “She was fired,” the woman said. “A few weeks ago. In fact . . .” The tech went quiet for a few moments before she spoke again. “She lost her jobs just days before the first murder happened.” 

“That must have been her trigger,” JJ said, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

“How is she still getting into these events if she’s been fired?” Morgan asked. 

“These guest lists are created months in advance,” Tony responded. “The publications probably forgot that she was even on the list, so they didn’t call to warn any of the events not to admit her.” 

“I’m sending a picture of her to everyone’s phones . . . now,” Penelope concluded. 

“Thanks, Garcia,” Hotch said. 

“That’s what I’m here for,” the blonde said before she ended the call. 

Spencer suddenly tensed in Tony’s grasp. “I see her,” the agent said, the arm that he had wrapped around the superhero’s shoulders tightening. “She’s at the appetizer station with the fruit and cheese.” 

“Got her,” Derek said, his dark eyes tracking the blonde as she looked disinterestedly at the food on the table in front of her for a moment before lifting her eyes to scan the room. When her gaze landed on Tony, a look of hate crossed her features and she turned away, stomping off to a different area of the venue.

“What do you want to do, Aaron?” Rossi asked. 

“For now, just observe her,” the unit chief answered. “There won’t be a case against her unless we catch her going after Stark.”

“I don’t feel comfortable putting my teammate in danger like that,” Rogers stated. 

“I’ll be fine, Steve,” Tony soothed over the line. “I’m probably more protected than the president right now.”

“He might be right about that,” Clint quipped over the comm. 

“We’ll just watch her for now,” Hotch continued. “Remember, no one approach her. We don’t want to make her suspicious.” 

The event continued, with the two teams talking to new people and making sure that Everhart was in their line of sight at all times. The woman became progressively more furious as the evening wore on, Spencer making sure to stick close to Tony so that she wouldn’t catch him alone. Even when the inventor had to be on stage; first to give a speech and then again to help showcase the auction items; Reid waited right next to the stairs and would wrap around Stark as soon as he was finished speaking to the crowd. Every time Spencer would curl his arms around him, Tony would beam and pull him even closer, nuzzling into him and planting gentle kisses on the soft, sweet smelling skin of the agent’s neck. 

Tony dragged his hand down Spencer’s back slowly, reveling in the shiver that ran through the taller man. “I love having you this close,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to the underside of Reid’s jaw. 

Spencer went red, but he couldn’t help but close his eyes and bask in the sensuous touches. “I like being this close,” he admitted quietly. 

“Yeah?” Tony breathed. “I’d like to get even closer to you.”

“Ugh,” Clint groaned, his voice loud in the couple’s ears and jolting them from their slightly heated moment. “Did you forget that we can hear you or do you just not care?”

“Maybe he’s into exhibitionism,” Rossi joked.

“Dave,” Aaron reprimanded lightly. 

“Knowing Stark, he is,” Natasha continued.

“Widow,” Steve chided. The rest of the team members tried to hide their laughter from the guests milling around them while Spencer hid his blushing face amongst Tony’s perfectly styled hair.

“Focus,” Agent Coulson’s voice snapped across the line. “We’re running out of time. The event’s almost over; Everhart is probably getting impatient.” 

“She _is_ pacing,” JJ said, glancing at the blonde from the corner of her eye. “She’s made sure to keep Tony where she can see him for the past hour.” 

“Yeah, she does kind of look like a caged gorilla, huh?” Clint asked. 

“I don’t think it’s polite to refer to her as a gorilla, Clint,” Steve said disapprovingly. 

Clint snorted. “Well, I don’t think it’s very polite that she’s been going around killing people.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Clint on this one,” Bruce interjected dryly. 

“ _Swish_ , two points for Hawkeye!” the archer crowed. 

“I don’t care what anyone calls her, as long as we make sure she doesn’t cause anymore harm,” Morgan intruded. “I’m not liking the way that she’s eyeing those knives at the carving station.” 

“Hmm,” Widow hummed along the line. “That would be pretty brazen of her if she went after Tony with a knife.”

“Didn’t Bruce mention something about the killer slicing Tony’s throat?” Clint asked. “Hey Hulktastic, you happen to know the lottery numbers by any chance?” 

“One, you don’t need the lottery; you live in my glorious tower where I supply you with food and shiny new toys. What more could you possibly want? And two, the talk of slicing my throat hasn’t gotten any more appealing, so let’s drop this decidedly unsexy topic and figure out a way to arrest Everhart,” Tony stated.

“Tony’s right,” Steve said. “We need to get her out of here. Before she decides to harm anyone else.” 

“Everhart’s leaving,” Prentiss interrupted suddenly. 

“What?” Coulson’s tense voice whipped over the comm. 

Spencer finally lifted his head from Tony’s hair, the redness on his face dissipating as he forced his mind to focus on the mission. “I see her,” he said. “She’s headed out of a side door.”

“Do we know where that door goes?” Morgan questioned. 

“The balcony,” Natasha responded, voice clipped. 

“Clint,” Coulson started. “I want you outside and up high. Get your eyes on that balcony.”

“Already on it,” the archer said as maneuvered his way out of the corner he had sequestered himself in and sliding smoothly through the crowd of people to the front entrance, undoing his tie as he went. 

“Tony,” Hotch began, turning his gaze onto the billionaire and the youngest member of his team. “Are you ready?” 

Tony pressed a smacking kiss to Reid’s cheek. “Lay it on me, secret agent man,” he said. 

“Talk to Everhart. Try and get her to mention the other murders; we don’t need to know her complete motive right now, we just need her confession. Stay on your toes; I don’t want her to get the jump on you, but if anything goes wrong, I’m sending my team right in.”

“Alright,” Stark said, nodding. He took a deep breath to help calm his suddenly racing heart. Even though he had the utmost confidence in Spencer’s team as well as his own, he was still about to face a woman who had murdered multiple men, who had come here to this event specifically to kill him. 

He started to pull away from Spencer, but the younger man tightened his grip. “Hey,” Tony said softly, turning so that they were pressed chest to chest and reaching up to cradle the agent’s face in his hands. Reid’s eyes were large and glassy, as if he were holding back tears. “It’s okay,” the inventor soothed. “I’m just going to talk to her and right now I’m surrounded by the best of the best. This is going to be a piece of cake, Butter Cream, you hear me? A piece of cake.”

\--

\--

It was not a piece of cake.

In fact, the whole thing was a disaster. 

Tony had stepped out onto the balcony into the breezy night and was greeted with an extremely agitated former reporter. She was pacing in a tight circle, muttering to herself while running her hands through her hair, making the blonde strands frizz and tangle. The sound of the door falling shut pulled her out of her episode, head jerking to look towards the source of the noise. When she saw Tony, her entire demeanor changed; her crazed air took on a much more menacing feeling, blue eyes narrowed in hate on the inventor. 

“Mr. Stark,” she hissed, turning to face him. “Just the man that I wanted to see.” 

“That’s one I’ve heard before,” Tony joked, tucking his hands into his pockets. He trailed his fingers across the face of his phone in a faintly soothing motion. 

Everhart grit her teeth in annoyance. “Where’s that boy that’s been clinging to you all night?” she questioned. 

“In position,” Clint’s voice floated quietly over the comms as Tony opened his mouth to answer. 

“He had to make a phone call,” the superhero said. He stepped a few paces away from the door to make sure that his backup could enter unimpeded if they needed to, but made sure to keep Christine in front of him and in his field of vision. “I decided that I needed to take a break from all the people clamoring for my attention.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” the woman snarled. “All those people desperately trying to get close to you and talk about whatever it is they want you to hear.” 

Tony shrugged, pulling off nonchalance easily, even though his fight or flight instincts were screaming at him as Everhart made her way closer. He wished that he had the suit, but he knew that this was a job for Tony Stark, not Iron Man. Carrying his suitcase around would have been too much of a tip off and most likely would have spooked Everhart, potentially sending her into a frenzy that could have injured or even killed multiple people. 

“What can I say,” Stark said casually. “It comes with being a billionaire philanthropist.” 

Christine laughed, but it wasn’t a carefree, joyful sound. It was angry and dark, riddled with malevolence and it made the hair on the back of Tony’s neck stand on end. “I don’t like the way that sounds,” Clint said in his ear to a murmur of assent from the others. “Be ready to move in.” 

“Understood,” Hotch responded. 

“Yes, a _philanthropist_ ,” Everhart spat. She was close enough that Tony could smell the sickly sweet smell of the perfume that was wafting off of her, the odor almost like rotting flowers. “Because you’re such a _good_ person.” 

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Really? You’re still on that kick? I shut down my weapons manufacturing, I’ve destroyed any and all weapons that fell into the wrong hands, I privatized peace in the Middle East and now I’m part of an amazing team of superheroes that saves the world on a weekly basis. I’m doing good. I _am_ good. You need to get over it.”

“There is no getting over it!” she roared, placing both hands on Stark’s chest and shoving him, hard. The man stumbled backwards, losing his footing slightly and catching himself on the wall behind him. 

“Tony!” Clint barked in his ear. 

“It’s okay,” Tony soothed, both to those listening in and the raging woman in front of him. He made his way from the wall, not wanting to be cornered against it in case she rushed him. “Everything’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Christine shrieked. “It will never be okay! I know you! I know the _real_ you! There is nothing good about you, just like there was nothing good about the others! You people hide behind fundraisers and grants, but in reality you’re all just disgusting, uncaring disgraces for human beings!” She was ranting hysterically, waving her arms about wildly and pacing back and forth, even as she kept her eyes pinned on Tony as he slowly crept around her. 

“Is that good enough for a confession?” Clint asked tensely. “I want Stark out of there.” 

She paused suddenly in her movements, shaking her head and once again turning fully to face Tony. “But no matter,” she said, her voice silky. “I know the perfect way of fixing everything. Of fixing you. I’ve fixed a lot of people recently.” She chuckled darkly. “But I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”

“I’m beginning to,” Tony said, raising his hands in front of him in the surrender motion as she began to advance on him. 

“Move in,” Hotch ordered. 

“Good,” Christine smirked. “I’ll make this quick.” She tensed to lunge at him, just as the door slammed open and the FBI team streamed onto the balcony with the rest of Tony’s team following after. 

Everhart spun around, releasing a scream of fury when she saw the group of people behind her. A fraction of tension was released from Tony’s frame as he gazed at those that he trusted. He didn’t completely relax, but he knew that he could hand some of the responsibility over to these men and women. His eyes locked on Spencer, who was staring intently at the incensed blonde woman, his face pale with anxiety, but his hands rock steady on his pistol. 

“Christine Everhart,” Hotchner said firmly. “You’re under arrest for murder.” 

“You can’t prove anything,” she seethed. 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Derek barked. “So why don’t you make this easier on yourself and just put your hands above your head.” 

The former reporter was silent, her eyes thin slits in her face as she glared hatefully at those assembled in front of her. Finally, after a few tense moments, she slowly raised her hands up into the air. There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief from everyone at the sign of her admitting defeat; it was finally over. 

Rossi stepped forward with a pair of handcuffs, pulling Everhart’s hands in front of her and slapping them onto her wrists. She sneered at him as he grasped her by the elbow, but stood docilely enough as the agents put their guns away and began to wrap everything up. Natasha stayed on guard though, keeping her eyes pinned to Everhart. 

“Nat,” Clint said suspiciously from where he was still positioned on the roof across the way. 

“I know,” the redhead said sharply. 

“What’s going on?” JJ asked. 

“She gave in too easily,” Natasha explained. “Don’t take your eyes off of her.” 

“Tony, come on over this way,” Steve commanded. “Let’s get you home.” Spencer was hovering just behind his shoulder, wringing his fingers anxiously. He had handed his pistol back to Morgan, who had been wearing it during the night so that it hadn’t given Reid away as an agent while Tony was holding him. 

Stark nodded, straightening his tie as he made his way over to Steve. “Sounds like a plan, Cap.” 

“Look out!” Clint bellowed, just as Natasha darted forward. But they were seconds too late. 

With a howl, Everhart broke out of Rossi’s grip and grabbed the back of Tony’s suit jacket as he passed by her, tossing him backwards and jumping after him, sending them both hurtling towards the edge of the balcony. 

“Tony!” Spencer shouted in terror, watching as the two slammed into the railing. They teetered against it for a few breathless seconds, before the momentum from the attack began to send them over the edge in a collection of flailing limbs. 

Steve jumped after them, reaching over to grab for his teammate as they toppled over. He was able to grab onto a piece of Tony, but was pulled over as well. He tried to grasp onto the ledge, but he couldn’t get a secure enough grip with his one free hand. He grit his teeth, desperately keeping his hold on Tony, even as his fingers started to slip away from the bars. Derek and Spencer reached the railing, staring in shock at the collection of people hanging over the edge. Morgan reached down and clutched at Steve’s wrist, trying to help keep him anchored to the banister. Tony was clutching onto Steve’s arm with both hands, his face pale and beaded with sweat as he tried to keep his grip and not allow the woman clinging to him pull him away. 

“Tony,” Spencer nearly whimpered.

“Steve, Steve it’s going to be okay, we’re going to get you back up safely. Just don’t let go,” Derek demanded. He couldn’t reach enough of the Captain to try and pull him back up onto the balcony and could only watch helplessly as the blonde continued to slide away from him. 

Bruce shoved his way forward, eyes already flashing green as he launched himself over the balcony, sending another wave of horror through the federal agents. Everhart was laughing manically as she dangled high above the streets of New York. The only thing keeping her from falling to her death was the grasp that she had on Tony’s ankle with her cuffed hands. 

“Coulson,” Natasha said. 

“Status report,” the agent snapped in their ears. 

“Incoming Hulk situation,” Hawkeye explained. 

“Hulk?!” Rossi exclaimed, just as the building shook on its foundation and an angry roar rent the night air. The screams of lingering paparazzi sounded right after and inside the tittering of the guests got louder as they wondered what was happening. Coulson had switched to a different channel of the comm and was directing the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents inside to wrangle and calm the party goers until the situation had been cleared. 

“Derek,” Steve called up to the agent. “Derek, it’s okay, we’re going to be just fine.”

“Damn right you are,” Morgan agreed. “Just hold on a little bit longer and we’re going to get you back up.” 

The blonde hero shook his head. “Trust me, Derek,” he said. “I need you to let go.” 

“What?!” the agent snapped. “Are you insane?” 

“Trust him,” Tony hollered, his voice strained. His hands were sweating and his grip on Steve was getting even harder to maintain. “Spencer, my sweet Vanilla Cupcake, don’t cry. Everything is going to be alright.” The two smiled at their agents before Steve let go of the railing, Derek yelling in fear and Spencer fisting his hands in his hair as they watched the three plummet towards the ground below.

\--

\--

“Do you want to explain to me what happened tonight?” Phil demanded, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the small assembly of people in front of him. They were all back at the Tower after the fiasco that had happened at the museum that night had finally been cleared up, the guests sent home and Christine Everhart taken into custody.

“Phil,” Clint sighed tiredly, shaking his head. He was slumped against the table that they had all been spending so much time at recently, his jacket draped on the back of his chair and his tie hanging loose around his neck. Coulson couldn’t shake the little thrill that went through him at the sound of his name on Barton’s lips. “Can’t we debrief tomorrow? I’m sure we could all use some sleep.” He looked pointedly over at Bruce, who was out like a light in his own chair at the table, head tilted back and mouth slightly open with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his pants in tatters. 

“I’m going to have to agree with Clint,” Hotch said, rising from his seat. He looked at the group around him. Rossi was settled deeply in his chair, his features drawn with fatigue. JJ and Emily were seated next to each other, their elegant appearance clashing with the FBI windbreakers they were sporting. Clint was sitting next to the snoozing Bruce, Natasha on his other side and the only one that still looked refreshed and alert. Tony was also seated at the table, his arm wrapped around Spencer’s shoulders, holding the younger genius close and running soothing fingers through his soft strands of hair. Reid had his face buried in the inventor’s neck, one hand fisted in the smooth fabric of his shirt and the other curled around his waist. Derek and Steve were standing shoulder to shoulder, hovering over the group as if standing guard. 

Phil sighed. “Alright,” he conceded. “Tonight was difficult, but I’m glad that everyone is safe. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning, at oh-eight hundred. Clint, will you help me get Bruce to his room?”

While Clint and Phil coaxed the sleeping hero up, the rest of those at the table stood and made their way towards their rooms. Rossi patted Tony on the shoulder as he passed and slapped Derek’s bicep with the back of his hand as he made his way by. After a few moments, the only ones that were left in the room were Derek, Steve, Spencer and Tony. 

“Don’t make us do that again,” Derek growled after a few moments of silence, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his face away.

“I’m sorry, Derek,” Steve said, chastised. 

“We fall off buildings a lot,” Tony piped up softly. “We have contingency plans.” 

“Contingency plans or not, I won’t stand by helpless and watch you fall to your death,” Morgan snapped. Steve reached out and ran his hand across the back of the agent’s shoulders, the fabric of his tuxedo jacket gliding smoothly against his palm. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“You better be,” Derek grumbled after a few anxious moments. He turned his gaze over to the blonde. “You’re just lucky the Hulk was there to catch you.” Spencer hummed his agreement from where he was still snuggled against Tony’s side. 

“He always does,” Stark commented. 

Steve gave two firm pats to Derek’s shoulder before pulling his hand away. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” he suggested.

“Sleep,” Derek scoffed, shaking his head and uncrossing his arms. “Not likely.” Reaching forward, he grabbed Steve by the back of his neck and yanked him forward, crashing their lips together in a furious kiss. Tony gaped at the two of them as they greedily sipped at each other, lips smacking together and hands tugging at each other’s clothes. Steve let out a faint whine when Derek pulled away, keeping his eyes closed as the agent soothed his hands across the other man’s back. 

Morgan glanced briefly over at Tony and Spencer, his eyes dark and hooded. “We’ll see you in the morning,” he rumbled before tucking Steve into his side and steering them towards his bedroom. 

“Well,” Tony said, clearing his throat after the two had disappeared from view. 

“Tony,” Spencer whispered, drawing away from the nook he had buried himself in. Stark gave the agent a soft smile, reaching up to brush the curls back from Reid’s forehead. 

“What can I do for you?” the billionaire asked.

Spencer swallowed heavily, the sound of his throat clicking echoing in the silence around them. His eyes were running back and forth over Tony’s face, taking in the handsome features and reassuring himself that he was here and unharmed. He knew that the sheer panic that he had felt tonight would linger with him for a long time. 

“Spencer?” Tony prompted gently, when the younger man had been quiet for a few long minutes.

Reid licked his lips. “Take me to your room?” he questioned tentatively. 

Tony blinked. “I - ,” 

“Please,” Spencer interjected before Stark could deny him. He tightened the grip he had on the hero’s clothes, wide eyes pleading with the man in front of him. “Please.”

After a few beats of silence, Tony nodded slowly. “Okay,” he agreed, brushing the pads of his fingers lightly over Spencer’s supple lips. He stood from his chair, pulling the other man up from his own and guiding them towards the elevator, which opened as they approached. 

“Thanks, J,” Tony called gently, twining his arm around Spencer’s slim waist as he ushered him inside the car and pressed his lips against Spencer’s cheek.

“Of course, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so very long to get this chapter up. For awhile I was having the most horrendous writer's block and the characters were fighting me left and right; and as you can see it isn't until the end that Spencer and Tony wanted to do ANYTHING. So yeah, that was frustrating. 
> 
> I have to admit that I don't know when the next chapter is going to be up. I was just diagnosed with cancer at the end of last month, so I have to have surgery in the beginning of August. I will try and get the fourth part up before I have the procedure done, but I can't make any promises, so please forgive me if it takes awhile again. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are much adored and I hope to see everyone next time.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

The morning light streamed in through the windows as Jarvis raised the shades, his voice pouring melodiously into the room. “Good morning, sir. The time is now 6:15 in the morning and the weather is a cool sixty three degrees with a 15% chance of showers this afternoon.”

Tony groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes in a bid to block out the hazy sunlight. “Dammit, J,” he snarled, rolling over onto his stomach and burying his head underneath the pillows. “What have I told you about sun before 11:30?” 

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis quipped. “But you do have the debriefing with Agent Coulson and the others to attend at eight this morning.”

“Eight, Jarvis, eight,” Tony grumbled. “Which means you should have gotten me up at seven fifty-nine so that I could stumble my way down a few floors and be perfectly on time. Since the debrief is in my tower and all.” 

“My apologies,” the AI drawled. 

“Don’t think I can’t detect that sarcasm, buster,” Tony said. “You wouldn’t want me to have an accident next time I’m working on your code, would you? That refined British accent of yours could suddenly end up sounding much more like a Mississippi twang with the slip of a finger.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jarvis stated coldly. “That accent would drive you mad.”

Tony popped his head up from underneath the pillows, head tilted back towards the ceiling and his blurry eyes narrowed in a glare. “Not before you,” he challenged. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Reid’s voice questioned in amusement from the doorway where he had been watching Tony and his AI engage in a sarcastic battle of wits. Stark turned to look over his shoulder, his hair wildly tousled and the blankets resting around his waist, leaving his naked back on display for Reid’s eager eyes. 

The engineer turned over, a smirk slowly creeping its way across his lips. “You are never an interruption, Dr. Reid,” he purred. Spencer rolled his eyes playfully, but he couldn’t stop the red that made its way over his cheeks. 

“Good to know,” the agent mumbled, raising his mug to his lips and taking a long draught. Tony perked up like a dog being offered a walk when he saw the cup, all seductive body language disappearing at the chance of much needed caffeine. 

“Coffee?” Tony questioned hopefully, gaze locked on the beverage in Reid’s grasp. 

Spencer shrugged. “Maybe,” he grinned. “You’ll just have to get up and see for yourself.” 

Tony shook his head. “That’s a horrible plan,” he stated. “I thought you were supposed to be a genius. I think you were exaggerating with that 187.” 

“Tell that to my team,” Spencer said, walking over to the bed and standing next to edge. Tony looked up at him, his eyes darting between Reid’s face and the coffee in his hands in a conflicted battle. 

The federal agent chuckled, shaking his head and perching on the bed next to Tony’s hip. He held out his mug to the engineer, who greedily took the offered cup and gulped down the sugary sweet drink inside. After he had drained the cup, he smacked his lips happily and leaned back against the headboard with a contented sigh. 

“You’re up early,” Tony commented, glancing down into the empty mug with a petulant frown. 

Spencer gave a small smile. “I’ve seen what you’re like in the morning,” he said. “I thought I’d better get the coffee started.” 

Tony gave a bark of laughter, shaking his head in amusement and keeping the younger genius pinned underneath his piercing gaze. “Smart aleck,” he said fondly, fingers twitching against the ceramic in his grasp as he resisted the urge to reach out and brush his digits against Reid’s cheek. 

“Um,” Spencer said quietly, twisting his fingers together in his lap. He had turned his face away, but Tony could see the light dusting of red that was splashed against his cheeks, the color slowly deepening as whatever he wanted to say continued to mull around in his head. 

“What’s up?” Tony asked curiously, his voice gentle. 

“Thank you,” the younger genius blurted out suddenly, his eyes wide and earnest as he looked at the older man. "Last night. For not . . . for not - ," 

"Hey," Tony soothed, shaking his head as he placed the empty mug on the bedside table. "Last night was emotionally charged for all of us. It definitely wasn't the time to be doing anything physical." 

"I know it wasn't," Reid agreed. He gave a slight laugh. "At least one of us was thinking clearly."  
Tony chuckled. "I have my moments," he joked. Reaching forward, he gave into the urge to touch the younger man's skin, brushing his fingers across the soft flesh of his cheek. "Don't think that I didn't want to though," he said seriously, his eyes darkening with desire. "Don't get it into your beautiful brain for one second that I didn't want to throw you down on this bed and make you scream." 

Spencer let out a soft sound, his eyes going half mast and his cheeks flushing pink. "I want it," he whispered tremulously as the air between the two shifted, becoming charged with heat. 

"Yeah?" Tony questioned, his voice nearly as breathless as the doctor's in front of him. 

Reid nodded. "Yes," he affirmed, his tongue flicking out across his lips as he locked eyes with the superhero. 

"Then come here, Angel Cake," Tony murmured, his words nearly lost as Spencer threw himself into the inventor's arms and latched onto his mouth, burying his hands in the man's dark, messy locks. Stark gave as good as he got, lips and tongue hungry as they meshed with Reid's and his greedy hands sliding across the toned form in his embrace. 

"Please," Spencer begged in a whisper, tightening his hands on the soft strands in his grasp. Tony let out a faint grunt at the tug on his scalp, the slight pain zinging across his nerves with a pleasant thrill. "I want - ,"

"What do you want?" Tony teased when Reid trailed off as the other man maneuvered his hands underneath his shirt, eyes clenched tightly shut at the feel of Stark's work-rough palms scraping against the skin of his back. 

"You - want - everything - please - Tony," Spencer choked out in vague coherence, his body shivering with need. 

Tony groaned quietly, nearly overwhelmed with desire for the unwittingly sexy agent that he held. "All of that," he agreed quietly, nuzzling into the crook of the younger man's neck and pressing lingering kisses to his softly scented skin as he started undoing the buttons on his shirt. Reid must have made a trip to his room before Tony had woken up; he was wearing an emerald green shirt and a pair of gray slacks instead of the pajamas that Stark had let him borrow the night before. As flattering as the outfit was, Tony couldn't wait to remove it and have complete access to the agent's soft flesh. 

The buttons slid easily from their holes, the superhero eagerly parting the fabric and placing his hands on Reid's pale, lithely muscled chest. Spencer moaned lowly, head falling back as sensation danced across body. His hands were restless, sliding from Tony's hair and down his neck, over his shoulders and tugging weakly at the other man's tank top. The inventor pushed the younger man's shirt down his arms before lifting his own over his head and flinging it to carelessly to the side, enfolding Spencer in his arms once more and pressing them down onto the bed. 

Spencer made a questioning noise in the back of his throat, eyebrows drawing together in curiosity at the feel of hard, cool metal pushing against his chest. He wiggled underneath Tony and the other man lifted up onto his elbows so that there was space between their upper bodies while their hips and legs were still nestled snuggly together. 

"Oh," Reid whispered, eyes drawn to the light the arc reactor pooled between them. 

Tony swallowed heavily, suddenly feeling like there was a huge weight crushing his lungs. "You've seen the blueprints," he said, trying to sound flippant, even though he could feel his heart thundering in his chest. 

"I know," Spencer said softly, his fingers caressing the glass casing and feeling the power thrumming underneath the digits. "It's different reading about it and actually seeing it." He placed his palm against the reactor, the blue light diffusing through the gaps in his fingers and keeping his gaze riveted. "It's beautiful." 

Tony blinked. "What?" he croaked. 

Spencer squirmed downward so that he was eye level with the life-saving device. "It is," the agent insisted, trailing his fingertips around the edge where casing met skin. Tony watched, enthralled. The scar tissue around the reactor was thick and the sensation there was dulled, but Stark felt as if Spencer's touch was electrifying his skin. Reid leaned forward and laid gentle kisses around the edges before placing one directly onto the glass. 

The inventor hauled Spencer back up, resting the younger genius' head once more on the pillows. "You're beautiful," he murmured before pressing their lips together in a hungry kiss. Tony lowered himself back down onto the agent, their skin sliding together and passion sparking between them. Spencer whined softly, wrapping his arms around Stark and clutching tightly at his back. 

"Jarvis," Tony muttered, lips trailing down Reid's cheek and to his neck. "Time?" 

"The current time is 7:22, Sir," Jarvis dutifully responded. 

Tony nipped at the crook of Reid's neck playfully before lifting his head. "Not enough time for the full buffet," he said, caressing the younger man's cheek with the tips of his fingers. "But there are some side dishes we can enjoy." 

"Really?" Spencer asked curiously. 

The superhero grinned. "Really," he confirmed. 

Spencer gazed up at Tony, wide eyes filled with both desire and mirth. "Show me?" he questioned, gliding his fingers up along the other man's spine and into the soft hair at the base of his skull. 

Tony shuddered at the touch, eyelids drooping to half-mast. "Gladly," he breathed.

\--

\--

Spencer panted frantically, his eyes wide as soft sounds caught in his throat. Tony groaned unashamedly around the erection in his mouth, the vibrations sending thrills through the agent's body. Reid's legs were bent and his feet were flat on the bed, while the engineer's hands traced along the inside of his thighs and teased through the thatch of curls around the base of his cock. The weak sunlight continued to filter through the windows, casting shadows on the two men on the bed.

Tony drew away, running his tongue along the underside of Spencer's cock and causing the younger genius to give a short cry. The hero's hand took over where his mouth had left, stroking the saliva soaked skin and trailing his eyes up the lithe form spread out before him. He nearly purred, watching as Spencer restlessly tossed his head from side to side, pleasure painted across his handsome features. 

"I can't wait until we have more time," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to the leaking slit. He licked his lips free of the pre-cum that coated them. "I'm going to worship you like you deserve." 

"Tony," Spencer moaned, back arching off the bed and a shudder passing through him. 

"Yeah," Stark whispered, speeding up his strokes as a shiver of his own wracked his body. He loved the way that his name sounded falling from the kiss-swollen lips of the agent. He placed another few kisses on the head of Spencer's cock before swallowing it back down, reveling in the sound that escaped his lover's throat. 

It was only a few more minutes before Tony felt Spencer's body go tense, whimpers tumbling rapidly and freely from that beautiful mouth. Stark teased his fingertips against the other's testicles, feeling them tighten and begin to draw up as Reid grew closer to climax. "Tony," he choked out, hands reaching down to push against the dark haired man's broad shoulders, even as his fingers bit deeply into the olive toned skin. "Stop, you have to stop . . . I'm . . . I'm . . ." 

Stark groaned, sliding his lips back up so just the head of the erection was still in his mouth. He licked around the ridges, twirling his tongue against the spongy tissue before sucking on it hard. Spencer shouted, feet scrambling against the sheets and hands clutching at Tony's back as he fell into orgasm. His hips arched towards Tony's face as his cock twitched and shot down the inventor's throat, the hot streams of cum eagerly swallowed down. 

Tony let the slowly softening penis fall from his lips, placing one last gentle kiss against it before sliding his way back up to straddle the other's body. Spencer curled his hands once more into Stark's hair, pulling him down into a shy kiss, their lips merely brushing lightly together. Tony hummed contently against the younger man's mouth, the tips of his fingers tenderly brushing against the defined line of the agent's jaw. 

"Do we still have time?" Reid asked quietly a few moments later. 

"What do you say, J?" Tony questioned just as softly, not wanting to disturb the comfortable bubble that surrounded the two of them. 

"The debriefing begins in fifteen minutes," Jarvis responded, his own volume lowered. 

"Fifteen minutes," Tony parroted, peppering kisses over Spencer's face. The younger genius laughed in delight at the ticklish feel of Stark's Van Dyke against his skin and he ran his hands across the naked flesh above him. 

"What should we do with these fifteen minutes?" he asked. 

Tony grasped one of the hands that had been roaming across his chest, bringing it up to his mouth for a quick kiss against the palm. "I have an idea," he smirked. 

"Only one?" Spencer asked with a teasing grin. 

"Cheeky," Tony said with pride. He planted another kiss on Reid's palm before he trailed his tongue against it and up over Spencer's long, slender fingers. The agent's breath hitched in his chest, eyes once more going dark with arousal. 

"For now," Stark continued, drawing the other genius' slick hand towards his straining erection. "We only need one. If that's okay with you." 

"Yes," Spencer breathed, closing his hand around the dripping cock between the other man's thighs. "It's very okay." Tony groaned, his head falling back in bliss as Spencer stroked him, rolling his hips smoothly into Reid's fist. He knew that it wouldn't take much to make him come, but he was going to enjoy every second of it. 

Spencer's touch was an alluring mix of confident and curious, with a hint of shyness dancing within. His palm was lightly calloused, so different from Tony's own rough skin, and it quickly brought the superhero to the brink. Reid's other hand slid up his thigh and onto his backside, feeling the muscle clench as Tony thrust into his grip. The reactor's blue light drew Spencer's gaze and he sat up, pressing his lips to the metal as his hand continued to glide up and down Stark's rigid cock.

Tony buried his hands in Reid's messy locks, holding him close against his chest and bucking into his hand as moan after moan escaped him. It wasn't long until he was crying out as he came, his cock jerking as it erupted over Spencer's fingers. His cum splashed up against his stomach and near where Reid's lips lingered on chest, the fluid dripping down over Reid's pale digits and down onto their thighs. Spencer stopped only once he was sure that Tony was finished, the engineer slumping forward against him and nuzzling into the crook of his lover's neck. 

The two stayed curled together while their bodies returned to normal, their chests brushing as their breath evened out and fell in sync. Spencer's hand fell away from Tony's flagging erection and into his own lap, idly dragging his fingertips through the liquid that had landed there and his other hand still resting against the firm globes of the hero's rear. Stark trailed his touch along Spencer's shoulders and collar bones, memorizing every dip and curve that he felt underneath the pale flesh. The cooling cum was beginning to feel uncomfortable on their skin and their legs were starting to go numb, but they were loathe to move away from each other. 

"We should . . ." Spencer mumbled, even though he did nothing to move from his spot. 

"Yeah," Tony sighed, the air puffing warm against Reid's neck. He stayed where he was for a few more heartbeats before he lifted his head and finally opened his eyes again. "We should. We don't want Clint barging in here." 

"Does he do that often?" Spencer asked curiously, watching as Tony rolled his neck a few times before sliding out of his lap and stumbling off the side of the bed. 

"It's a habit of his that we can't break," Tony remarked as he made his way on tingling legs towards the bathroom. He re-emerged with a damp hand towel that he tossed at Reid. The younger man fumbled and nearly toppled off the side of the bed before he finally managed to catch it. He blushed hotly and was relieved that when he looked back up Stark had disappeared back into the bathroom and had missed his uncoordinated dance. 

"Pardon the intrusion, Sir," Jarvis chimed in with his cool tones. "Agent Coulson wanted me to remind you that the briefing will begin in three minutes and that if you aren't on time he has quite a few episodes on Supernanny that he needs to catch up on." 

Spencer frowned and paused in doing up the buttons on his shirt. The hand towel laid discarded on the floor, waiting to be taken back into where it had come from. "Supernanny?" he called out towards Tony. 

The man reappeared in the doorway to the bathroom, a slightly haunted look decorating his features. "Don't ask," he muttered. Shaking his head, he made his way over to the bed and began throwing his pajamas back on hastily. After he had slid back into them, he made his way over to his closet and snagged an Avengers themed zip up hooded sweatshirt, shrugging into the soft material and sliding the tab up. Spencer finished doing the buckle on his belt and the two hurried from the room, the agent scooping up his black cardigan off the back of the couch in the living room where he had deposited it before going to wake Tony. 

They stepped into the elevator that Jarvis had waiting for them, the doors closing smoothly behind them and the car starting the trek down to the communal floor. Tony playfully bumped his shoulder against Spencer's arm and the agent turned his large eyes to the engineer. "Brace yourself," Stark warned. 

Reid frowned. "For?" he questioned. 

"Clint," Tony answered, just as the doors to the elevator opened. He stepped out, Spencer blinking confusedly at his back for a few beats before he followed after him. Why would he have to brace himself for Clint? Although he hadn't spent much time with the archer, he seemed like a relatively fun and friendly person. 

"Well, well, well," the hero in question crowed teasingly when his eyes landed on the two. "Look who's decided to grace us with their presence." Around the table, the rest of both teams were assembled. Steve and Derek sat as closely together as their chairs allowed, their ankles brushing together underneath the table. Emily and JJ sat next to each other, cups of coffee held within their grasps as they turned their attention away from the conversation they had been having and focused on the two making their way to the table. Bruce sat between Clint and Natasha, a small smile decorating his full lips while the archer smirked in delight and the redheaded assassin sported a vague look of amusement. Hotch and Rossi were seated next to each other and Phil was standing at the head of the table, flanking the seat that Fury occupied. 

"Please, no pictures," Tony joked, raising his hand as if warding off the paparazzi's cameras. He took his place at one of the empty chairs at the table and reached out for the coffee pot that was resting in the center. 

"Someone's pretty awake for such an early hour. I wonder why that is?" Clint ribbed, wiggling his eyebrows at the engineer before turning his piercing gaze onto Reid. "Something you want to share with the class, Agent Genius?" 

"Share later, if you don't mind," Fury drawled, his one eye flashing. "Right now, you can all explain to me why last night turned into such a shit show." 

"I wouldn't go that far -, " Stark began, but was interrupted by the Director's harsh tone. 

"Not that far?" he snapped. "There's pictures on the internet of you and Rogers dangling off of the balcony at a high end fundraiser with a murder suspect attached to your ankle. The Hulk made an unscheduled appearance, in the middle of a civilian-heavy population with nothing dangerous obviously visible. I'd say that's slid well into shit show territory." 

"When you put it that way . . ." Clint muttered, turning his face away when Fury pinned him with an angry stare. 

"So," the Director began dully. "Who wants to begin with the explanation?" 

Tony licked his lips, his hand resting gently on Spencer's thigh where the younger man sat next to him. "Not it," the engineer stated simply.

\--

\--

After the exceedingly drawn out debrief, Fury left in a swirl of leather and threatening glares, leaving the two teams once again on their own. Phil hustled Clint away into the kitchen so that the two could get started on breakfast, the older man quirking an eyebrow towards Tony as he did so. The billionaire couldn't help the grin he sent back in return.

Hotch stayed seated at the table, working on the paperwork that would put a rest to this case, Spencer peering over his shoulder with a mug of coffee clutched between his hands. JJ, Prentiss and Natasha had joined Rossi and Bruce over in front of the television, the group sprawled out on the various couches and chairs as they flipped through the channels and tried to decide on something that everyone would enjoy watching. Derek and Steve had made their way over to the windows, peering down at New York as the inhabitants below bustled about their day, the agent gliding one hand smoothly up and down the hero's back. Tony settled deeper into his seat at the table, observing those in front of him. 

After a few minutes of bickering from in front of the television and clanking in the kitchen, Phil poked his head around the door frame. "We've decided to make scrambles," he announced, pulling everyone's attention to him. "Can I have everyone in here so that you can tell us what you want in them?" 

"Made to order scrambles," Rossi smiled, rising from the plush chair that he had taken residence in. "Hotch, I think I may be leaving the BAU and coming to live here permanently." 

"Let me know if you're deciding to retire so that I can replace you," Aaron shot back with a smirk. 

"Hey, hey! This isn't a retirement home!" Tony howled, rising from his seat. The others laughed as they filed into the kitchen, taking in the spread that Phil and Clint had prepared on the counter space. Multiple bowls lined the surface, filled with different cheeses, vegetables and meats that could be used as the delicious stuffing of a scramble. Clint was at one of the burners of the stove, a spatula in one hand and spreading butter around a frying pan with his other. 

The archer glanced over his shoulder at the group gathered in the kitchen, a pleased smile crossing his lips when Phil trailed his hand across the agent's waist on his way to the burner on Clint's other side. "Bruce!" he cried, pointing his spatula at his teammate. "My Broccoli Floret of Anger! What would you like in your scramble?" 

Bruce blinked. "Uhh . . ." he trilled, a look of utter confusion painted across his face at his newest nickname. "Yeah. I'll have . . . "

"'Broccoli Floret of Anger'?" JJ whispered out of the side of her mouth. 

Tony shrugged, hiding his grin around the rim of his mug of coffee. "Just go with it," he suggested. 

With Phil manning the other burner, it wasn't long before everyone had their breakfast in hand and were making their way back to the table in the other room. Phil and Clint trailed after them, bringing with them a large bowl of cut up fruit and a heaping pile of bacon that they placed in the center for everyone to reach. The meal was an excited affair, as all the other ones had been, with conversation flowing freely and laughter echoing around the room. Tony winked at Spencer from across the table and the younger man couldn't help but flush, even as a happy smile made its way over his mouth. 

Halfway through the meal, Hotchner's phone began to chime loudly, interrupting the camaraderie that surrounded the group. He wiped his mouth on a napkin before pulling the piece of tech from his pocket and lifting it to his ear. "Hotchner." 

"Morning, Sir," Penelope's chimed from over the line, her voice just audible to the others around the table. 

"Morning, Garcia," Aaron responded. He could hear her heels clacking in the background and imagined that she had just gotten up for a cup of coffee before placing her call. 

"I heard that you wrapped up the case. Congratulations, Sir," she said. 

"Thanks, Garcia."

"Thanks, Mama," Morgan called out from a few seats down. 

Garcia cooed. "Is that my amazingly gorgeous and sexy -,"

"Garcia," Hotch cut her off and she cleared her throat. 

"Right, sorry, Sir. Anyway, I didn't want to call too early in case everyone was having a well deserved lazy morning after last night, but I was just wondering when you gallivanting knights were going to come back home. It's lonely here without you," the bubbly tech said, the pout easily heard in her voice. 

"Don't worry, Garcia," Hotchner responded. "We'll be home later today.

"Oh good!" Garcia cheered. "And don't forget my souvenir!" she demanded cheerfully before disconnecting the line. Aaron blinked before he lowered the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. 

"We're . . . we're really leaving today?" Spencer asked quietly, disappointment radiating from his form in waves. 

Hotch nodded. "I'm sorry, Reid. I talked to the pilot this morning. We leave at two." 

"Well," Phil said, lowering his fork and knife silently to the table. "That leaves us all enough time to shower and for you to pack so that we can take you to airstrip." 

"You don't have to -," JJ began, but Steve shook his head. 

"It would be our pleasure," he told her simply.

\--

\--

The limo rolled smoothly to a stop on the tarmac, the FBI jet ready and waiting to be boarded a few paces away. The sky over the airstrip was a cloudy gray, the temperature cooler than the morning had been and the threat of rain having increased to thirty percent.

Happy jumped out of the driver's side and made his way over to one of the doors, pulling it open and then going around to the trunk to begin pulling out the luggage. Phil was the first one out of the vehicle, Clint and Natasha following closely after. Coulson was dressed down in a pair of dark jeans and a chocolate brown turtleneck, a jacket thrown over and his dark framed glasses resting on his face. Clint was also in a pair of jeans, well loved and frayed, with a thick purple sweater underneath an old leather jacket. Natasha had on a pair of knee high boots and a trench coat with a scarf looped around her neck. 

The rest of the teams slid from the limo, all bundled up in various layers. Hotch was in his typical suit with a dark coat over it, left unbuttoned. Rossi was also sporting his usual look of jeans and a suit jacket and an outer coat thrown over one of his arms. JJ had jeans and an oversized sweater, while Emily also had a long trench coat over a V-neck sweater and slacks. Reid had on gloves and a scarf, Derek wore a hooded sweatshirt and Steve also had a leather jacket while Tony had donned a peacoat. 

JJ sighed heavily as all of them stood together, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. "I wish we could have had more time," she said with a slight laugh. "But this is definitely one for the history books."

"No kidding," Prentiss agreed, looking around at the heroes. "Thanks for letting us into your Tower, Tony." 

"Well, it wasn't that bad," the inventor said playfully. 

"He means you're welcome," Steve interpreted. "Thank you all, for keeping him safe and for letting us help." 

"We wouldn't have been able to do it without you," Rossi said, holding his hand out towards the Captain. Steve shook it firmly, a warm smile gracing his features. "So thank you, too." 

"We appreciate everything that you've done for us," Hotch said, exchanging handshakes with group of heroes. Around him, the rest of his team was following suit, with JJ and Emily giving hugs as well. 

Phil smiled. "The feeling is certainly mutual," he said. He glanced over at Happy, who had helpfully brought all of the bags into the jet and was standing at the rear of the vehicle. "You should get going, you don't want to get caught in the storm that's brewing." 

"No, we do not," Rossi agreed fervently. "It was nice meeting all of you." 

"And you," Steve agreed. "Stay in touch?" he directed towards them all, but his blue eyes had drifted to Derek, his stare hopeful. 

"You know it," the dark-skinned agent confirmed, his eyes soft as he gazed at the man in front of him. 

"Hey," Tony called suddenly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his coat and waving it in the air. "Why don't we get a picture before you go? Happy, could you?"

"Sure thing, Boss," Happy responded, stepping over and taking the phone from the engineer's fingers before backing up a few paces so that he could get everyone in the frame. JJ and Prentiss each took a knee with Natasha in between them. Clint was on JJ's other side, a friendly arm wrapped around her while Phil took to the tarmac next to Prentiss. Hotch stepped up behind Natasha with Rossi behind Emily, playfully putting up bunny ears behind the woman's head. Spencer stood next to Dave with Tony at his other side, the two wrapped around each other. Next to Hotch, Derek had Steve pressed against his side, the soldier's arm firmly twined around the agent's waist. 

"Everyone smile and say New York!" Happy directed, raising the phone in front of him and focusing on the smiling faces through the lens. 

"New York!"

\--

\--

Derek made his way down the plane towards Reid, falling into the leather seat across from where the younger man was curled up. Around them, the others were in various stages of relaxation as the jet soared through the air towards home. "That was some trip, huh Pretty Boy?" Morgan questioned, leaning back into his chair. His headphones were down around his neck, faint strains of music audible from the plush ear coverings as his music player still sang away in his pocket.

Reid gave a slightly crooked smile. "You're telling me," he said. "When are you going to see Steve again?" 

Morgan couldn't help the smile that bloomed at the mention of the blonde hero. "Soon," he answered after a moment of daydreaming. "How about you? When are you going to see Stark next?" 

One of Spencer's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I don't know. We didn't talk about it." 

"Hey," Derek said, reaching forward and bumping the toe of his boot gently against Reid's Converse. "Remember what I said? You have him around your finger. Don't you worry, you'll see him." 

"Yeah," Spencer said disbelievingly. Morgan gave him a flat look, but it was disregarded as Reid turned purposefully back to the book that he had been reading before Derek had joined him. The other man watched the young genius ignore him for a few more beats before he lifted his headphones once more onto his ears and closed his eyes, tilting his head back and losing himself in his music. 

The jet was mostly quiet after that, the peace only broken by the flipping of Reid's pages, the occasional words between Hotch and Rossi and the squeaking of leather seats. Spencer startled when his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, a frown falling across his face in confusion. He fished the device from his pocket and lit up the screen, the notification that he had a new text message staring up at him. 

Maneuvering his way to his messages, he saw that is was a picture message from an unknown number. His frown deepened and he glanced around the plane, but the others were still absorbed in their own activities. Opening the text, he barely managed to stop the sound that bubbled it's way up in his throat. 

It was from Tony. The picture was of him in the lab, pouting exaggeratedly and holding a steaming mug in his hands while Dummy poked curiously at his shoulder. Spencer could only assume that Jarvis had taken the photo. The hero had also attached a message to the picture: 

_Wish you were still here to Science! See you soon. Sext you later. ;) <3_

Even as his cheeks went red, Spencer smiled as he started to type back his response.

**The End**

_Date Completed: January 4, 2015_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Woooow. I finished it. It took a year and some change, but I got it done. I almost can't believe it. 
> 
> Thank you very much for taking this journey with me. I will definitely be returning to this world because a) there needs to be more Derek/Steve, b) Tony and Spencer need to have actual SEX and c) I like these two groups together, so why not? I apologize that there was no actual penetrative sex in this, but I lost control of this story way early and was just sort of dragged along for the ride that the characters decided; I'm sure most of you totally know how that goes. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all your kind words, encouragement and kudos. They all mean so much to me and I hope that you enjoyed this last chapter. I will see you next time. *waves*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please leave comments and kudos, they are appreciated and it would be great to hear what you think. Until next time.


End file.
